


Sleepwalk

by RosieFreebatch



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - 1960s, Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Teenagers, Eurus is just as nuts as she was in TFP, Eurus loves Jim Moriarty in her own twisted way, F/M, Gay Sex, Gen, Greaser Sherlock, Greaserlock, Hate to Love, John Plays Football, Johnlock Roulette, M/M, Making Out, Murder Mystery, Mycroft Being A Stalker, Possessive Sherlock, Protective Mycroft, Serial Killers, Sherlock Is A Bit Not Good, Teen Angst, Teenlock, Underage Sex
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-17
Updated: 2018-01-21
Packaged: 2018-09-18 01:18:44
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 43
Words: 116,910
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9358241
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RosieFreebatch/pseuds/RosieFreebatch
Summary: UPDATE: This fic is being abandoned for now. Please go to Chapter 43 for more details.Sherrinford, California is a picturesque beach town, a perfect slice of Americana. It's quiet, sleepy, and that's how people like it.In the summer of 1961 the Holmes family sweeps into town, emigrating from England, and this perfect town will never be the same. The Holmes siblings - seventeen year-old Mycroft, sixteen year-old Sherlock, and fifteen year-old Eurus, are not your typical teens. They’re eerily smart and they can spill a stranger’s secrets just by silent observation. They’re also highly manipulative and sociopathic, Sherlock and Eurus especially, and when they want something they go after it and usually get it.The same holds true for when they wantsomeoneas well. For when the Holmes siblings encounter John Watson, Molly Hooper, and Jim Moriarty, they have a new mission---go after their objects of obsession---and make sure they’re theirs forever. Even if others have to get hurt.





	1. A Summer Place

**Author's Note:**

> After watching The Final Problem, I came up with this idea in my head so it's a write-as-I-go fic. It also gives me an excuse to do a dark Greaserlock and Teenlock story. I set the story in America, so apart from the Holmes characters, everyone else is American. The story title is from the 1959 song by Santo & Johnny and you can listen to it on YouTube.

Molly Hooper watched a handsome and muscular boy with light brown hair splash around in the ocean with a gorgeous, curvy redhead, wearing a white bikini that showed off her perfect California tan. Molly sighed and looked down at her boring pink one-piece and flat chest. _It’s no wonder why he’s with her. She’s like a Hollywood beauty, and I’m so mousy and boring. I won’t ever attract someone like him._

Greg Lestrade and Irene Adler were the it couple of Culverton Smith High. He was the tight end for the school football team, The Hounds, and Irene was captain of the cheerleading squad. So of course it was a given that they would be together. Most of the football players would only date pretty paper shakers. They would never look Molly’s way. She was a bookworm, more interested in reading, writing mystery stories, and crossword puzzles instead of drive-ins, dances, and bonfires at the beach. Even if she did go to those events, it’s not like any of those boys would go out of their way to talk to her. Well, except one boy, but they were best friends.

“Hey you. Penny for your thoughts?” a voice softly called to her. Molly snapped out of her reverie and looked up to see John Watson smiling down at her. “Oh hi John. Just daydreaming.”

John sat down next to her on the blanket and glanced out at the ocean. “Hmm, I think I know what those daydreams were about.” He grinned and lightly punched her on the shoulder, causing Molly to blush bright red. 

“I don’t know even why I bother...it’s not like he would ever notice me anyway,” she lamented. “But I’m not about to plaster pounds of makeup on my face and become a paper shaker, it’s just not me.”

John pulled her close and pressed a kiss to her cheek. “I don’t want you to be like that. You’re perfect the way you are, and one day a guy will realize that.” He genuinely loved Molly as a friend. They actually did try dating when they first met a year ago, but realized they would better off as best friends. Which was a good thing, as the two worked as carhops at The Big H, a popular hangout for Sherrinford’s teens on weekend nights. 

The Big H was run by Martha Hudson, a sweet but take-no-shit forty-four year old widow. Mrs. Hudson was unlike any adult John ever met. She was a former burlesque dancer and mob moll. Her late husband, Frank was a small-time gangster nicknamed “The Goalie” because he used to be a soccer player, and his powerful legs were put to good use breaking the kneecaps of those in debt to him or his fellow mobsters. But the mafia life caught up with him and he was executed, his body found floating in a Florida swamp. As she told John and Molly, she took the legit money she had, came to Sherrinford, and bought a run down diner she transformed into the town’s most popular eatery. She had a rapport with a lot of teens, she loved rock & roll and would chaperone the school dances, wowing the kids with her moves. She was cool and everyone knew it.

“Okay John, how about a penny for _your thoughts,_ ” Molly said, breaking John out of his reverie. He patted her on the knee. “Just thinking about how awesome Mrs. Hudson is, and how that I’m due to work my shift in two hours, so I better get home and clean up.” He got off the blanket, brushing sand off his red swim trunks. Just then, Greg and Irene came walking up, hand in hand. “Hey John, you’re not leaving already, are you?” Greg asked.

“Yeah. Unlike some people, I have to work.” He grinned broadly at his friend. “But I’m off tomorrow, so maybe you can come over and listen to records with me and Victor. Unless you have other plans with your girl.” He gazed at Irene, who flashed him a dazzling smile.

“He’s allowed. I’m going shopping with Kate tomorrow. It’s time to get our best back-to-school outfits. I need to be at my absolute sexiest for my man.” Greg rolled his eyes. “I’ll come over John.” He peered down at Molly. “Hi Molly,” he said. 

“Hello,” she said softly, trying to tame the butterflies in her stomach. She stood up and began to shake off her blanket. “John, do you think you could give me a ride home? The next bus doesn’t come for another hour.”

“Of course Molly. I never turn down the chance to have a pretty girl in my ride,” he replied, winking at her. Molly blushed again, but she was smiling. Leave it to John to compliment her in front of the boy she was hopelessly in love with and his drop-dead beautiful girlfriend. It made her feel good.

The four said their goodbyes and John and Molly headed for John’s car, a red 1955 Chrysler 300. It was a birthday gift from his sister Harriet and her husband Clarence, who lived in Los Angeles. Clarence owned a mechanic shop and Harriet, who liked to be called Harry, did the books. Clarence had found the car at an auction, bought it, and started restoring it. When the couple learned from Mrs. Watson John was working extra shifts at Mrs. H’s and also babysitting to earn money for a car, they decided to give it to John. On the day of John’s sixteenth birthday back in April, Harriet and Clarence came to Sherrinford to present it to him. John had cried upon seeing the car, and promised the two he’d come to LA when he scraped up some extra money to help Clarence in his garage. But his mother had beaten him to it, giving him the cash as his other birthday present. John planned to visit the last week of summer vacation before school started. 

John opened the passenger door for Molly and put her tote bag in the backseat. He slid into the driver’s side and revved up the engine. “Are you going to come and visit me tonight?” he asked. “I’ll be with Mary and Mike, but you know I like working with you best.”

“I’ll be there. “I’ll get Mom and Dad to drop me off on their way to the movies. She’s dragging him to see “Return to Peyton Place.” Molly giggled and picked at her swimsuit. “Dad keeps saying he hates those kinds of movies, but you should have seen him when the first one came out. He loved it and wouldn’t stop talking about it for weeks.”

Forty minutes later they were in front of Molly’s house, a pleasant yellow California rancher with a garage on the left side and a small, but well kept, lush green patch of lawn. John got out, grabbed Molly’s bag and opened up the door for her. He walked her up the drive. “I’ll see you later,” he said, giving her a hug. 

The front door opened and Molly’s mother, Sylvia Hooper, a pretty short brunette with her hair piled up in a bun, appeared. “Hi sweetheart,” she greeted. She saw John and her face lit up. “John! You brought Molly back from the beach. Thank you.”

“No problem Mrs. Hooper. Well, I have to be off, gotta get ready for work. “See ya later Molls!” he called as he headed for his car.

“What a nice boy. It’s too bad you weren’t able to be anything more than friends. Any girl would be lucky to have him,” Mrs. Hooper gushed to her daughter.

Molly smiled at her mother and watched the red car drive down the street. Any girl would be lucky. So would any guy, for that matter. For Molly knew John could be attracted to both females and males. All their friends knew. _You like who you like_ , he once told her. But she and the others didn’t dare tell their parents. Some things were meant to be private. 

****  
“Okay, that’s two chili dogs with the works, two orders of fries, and two Cokes. Is there anything else I can get you?” John asked the couple in the black Chevy Impala convertible. The driver, a skinny twenty year-old with dark hair, bangs swept to his side, that went by Anderson, said no. His girlfriend, nineteen year-old Sally Donovan, also said no. “It’ll be out in a few.” He smiled at them and skated away to put in the order to Angelo, the cook. 

It was a typical Friday night at The Big H. The parking lot was packed with families and teenagers. The sun was still up, and it was a beautiful late summer night. Every now and then a cool ocean breeze would sweep through, ruffling John’s blond hair as he skated around taking orders and delivering food. Mrs. Hudson paid him a decent wage, which he used towards helping his mom buy groceries at Vons. Mrs. Hudson also provided him with free food sometimes and he and his mom would indulge in burgers, fries, and hot dogs. He saved up enough money from July to purchase some new clothes for school. He and Molly had already planned a shopping trip to Woolworth’s the week before he was leaving to visit Harry and Clarence in LA.

Doo-wop and rock music blared from the speakers perched at each end of the restaurant, currently it was playing “Blue Moon” by The Marcels. It was one of John’s mom’s favorites and it always brought a smile to his face. He was singing along to it while skating over to deliver an order to Bill Murray and his girlfriend Sarah Sawyer.

“You’re in a good mood tonight,” his friend and co-worker Mike Stamford said as the two took a short break sipping Cokes. 

“I can’t complain Mike. I guess I’m lucky to have this job, that I actually like, and Mom is doing a lot better since she got promoted to lead secretary down at Reichenbach’s place. We’re still struggling a bit, but she’ll have a little bit more money in the bank after bills, and my wages and tips here means she doesn’t have to worry about food. She’s actually thinking about selling the cottage and renting an apartment three blocks from the beach. Mr. & Mrs. Reichenbach own this two-bedroom above a laundromat they want to rent out, and they want Mom to have it. We wouldn’t have a washer or a dryer, but it’s closer to her job, and it would be boss being able to walk to the beach and spend more time there. She already has two takers for our house, an older lady named Mrs. Turner and her daughter.”

“Man, that’s fab John! That gives me an excuse to come see you and hang at the beach.” Mike took a sip of his Coke and leaned into John. “Irene and her friend Kate were here last night while you were off, and Irene was going ape over a new family that moved in next door to her a few days ago. They’re British and very rich. A husband, wife, and three teenagers our age. Two boys and a girl. Irene went on and on about one of the boys. From how she described him, he seems like a real flutter bum. Dark hair, black as night, tall and lean, cheekbones you could cut diamonds on, with these unique eyes. She said the first time saw them they were blue, but the next day, they look green. Kind of how yours are dark blue, but then they look brown later. And his voice is real deep. Irene described it as pure sex. Maybe she can hook you up with him, huh? Irene said Kate was all over him like bee on honey and he rudely told her girls were not his area.” Mike nudged his friend and winked at him.

John groaned and rolled his eyes. “The last thing I need is some rich cube with a posh accent for a boyfriend. Not my type.” 

Mike looked John up and down. “Yeah, you might be right. He probably wouldn’t be into a jock. From what Irene said, this family was total blue blood and old money.”

“Even more all the reason to steer clear.” John peered at the clock on the wall. “Break time’s over friend. Let’s cut the gas and get back to work. Only two more hours to go!”

****  
Molly had arrived an hour before John’s shift ended. She had planned to come earlier, but she was asked to babysit and she agreed, wanting the extra money for back-to-school clothes. She got a ride from her friend Janine Hawkins, who happened to be Mike’s girlfriend. Mrs. Hudson had also come to check on things, and let Mike go early after John and Mary said they would handle the rest of the evening. It wasn’t as busy as it had been earlier, and John would give Molly a ride home.

While Mary was taking an order, John was sitting on a bench with his friend. “So how were the Magnussen’s little ankle biters tonight?” he asked.

“Don’t call them that John. They’re perfectly lovely children. But they were both in bed with colds tonight so that made my job a lot easier.” She grinned and took a drink of her strawberry milkshake. 

“Hey Molly, Mike was telling me tonight about this new family that moved into Irene’s neighborhood. They’re British. You know anything about them?”

“Janine told me their last name is Holmes. She was over at Irene’s a few days ago going over some cheerleading moves and met the daughter. She said she has a really weird name---Eurus. And that the girl was real gone. She started rattling off things about Janine that only her friends and family would know after only a minute of meeting her. It really spooked Janine.”

“Well, good thing they’re in the rich section of town and not down here with us ol’ regular Joes,” John replied, taking all of what Molly said in.

“Don’t feel relieved just yet John. They’re going to attend Culverton next month.”

John’s eyes widened. “You yanking my chain? Come on, if they’re that rich and British, wouldn’t they be going to Doyle Prep?” 

“From what Eurus told Janine, their parents wanted them to go there but they wanted to go to Culverton. She said going to a public school would be a lot more exciting because she could do her ‘experiments’ that wouldn’t be as fun as if she went to some dull and tedious private school.”

“Jesus Molly, this Eurus sounds crazy as fuck! Janine will have to point her out to me, as well as her siblings so I can avoid them like the plague. These Holmes people sound like they’re up to no good at all.”

Molly nodded. “It looks like Sherrinford is about to get some excitement. Remember when the biggest thing to hit this town was when the roller rink opened over on Norbury Avenue? I don’t know about you John, but I prefer my town to stay boring.”

“Me too Molly, me too. Boring is what we have. Boring protects us.”

As another Friday night slowly came to an end, John and Molly went home, each wondering how their quiet little lives may not be so quiet anymore.


	2. All Shook Up

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You want creepy, predatory Mycroft? You got it! Plus, Victor is a sad gay baby, Greg is a sad straight baby, and Sherlock shows up at the end just to give us a dash of the sexy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm quickly getting good feedback on this story, so thank you!

John stood in the center of his bedroom, doing air guitar while “Walk, Don’t Run” by The Ventures spun on his record player. Greg was on the floor laughing while their other friend, Victor Trevor, the Hounds quarterback, sat on his bed grinning. “Go John go!” Greg cheered.

There was a knock at the door. “Johnny honey, it’s Mom.” John stopped his concert, turned down the record and opened his door. “Hey Mom.” 

Wanda Watson smiled at the three boys. “Mrs. Hudson called. She put aside some food for us so I’m going down to pick it up. Do you need anything while I’m out?”

“No Mom. But tell Mrs. H. I said thanks.” John’s mouth started to water in anticipation. Her burgers were the best in town. 

“I will. You’re going to need fuel for all that roller skating you’ll be doing tonight.” She gave him a peck on the cheek. See you later Greg, Victor.” She shut the door. John flopped down on the bed next to Victor. “Greg, it’s too bad you can’t come skating with me and the gang. I know you’d have a lot more fun with us than going with Irene to a stuffy country club dance.”

Greg wrinkled his nose and frowned. “Believe me, I’d rather be with you. I hate having to wear a monkey suit and hobnob with those rich stiffs while boring music plays. I don’t even know how to do those fancy dances. But Irene insisted. She wasn’t keen on going at first, until she found out her new neighbors are coming.”

John’s eyes widened. “You mean the Holmes creeps?” 

Greg snickered. “So you’ve heard of them. Irene is fascinated with them, especially the one with the sex voice and multi-colored eyes. I saw him briefly when I dropped her off at home yesterday. He freaked me out man. But the most surprising thing was how he was dressed...he’s a goddamn greaser!”

John’s mouth dropped open. He certainly wasn’t expecting a rich kid from across the pond to be into leather jackets and hot rods. “You’re kidding me!”

“Nope. He didn’t have a leather jacket on, but he had on a tight white T-shirt, black jeans and motorcycle boots. He also has a motorcycle. It’s black with purple flames painted on the side. It’s a beauty and probably cost a pretty penny too. I saw him get on it and ride off somewhere.”

Victor let out a low whistle. “No wonder Irene’s all ape over him. He sounds like a real sex god.”

“Mike told me that he’s into guys,” John said matter-of-factly. 

At that last comment, Victor tensed up. He was also gay, but was in the closet. His parents had made some unkind remarks about homosexuals in the past and he was afraid to come out to them. But maybe having another gay teenage boy in town made him feel a little better. _Maybe I should introduce myself to him, maybe we could be friends._ It wasn’t that Victor was lacking in friends. Being the quarterback of the Hounds brought him popularity and tons of offers for dates, all of them from girls. There was one person he was interested in having a relationship with, and he was sitting right next to him. Victor crushed on John ever since he joined the football team last year, and his feelings were growing into something a lot more. He knew John was bisexual and wasn’t against dating another boy, but John had made it clear several times he wasn’t interested in dating anyone right now. He tried with Molly Hooper and it didn’t work out, he also went out a few times with Mary Morstan, but like with Molly, they were better as friends. Sebastian Wilkes had tried to kiss him at a Christmas party last year but that ended up with John pouring beer all over him, swearing if he tried it again, he’d break his nose. So Victor stayed silent, resigning to be just friends. 

John got up to put on another record. Greg stood up and stretched. “I hate to go, but I need to get back home and start making myself look even more handsome than I am for this bash.” Victor rolled his eyes and John groaned. “You’re way too humble Greg," he retorted, dripping with sarcasm.

His friend smirked. “I know. It’s one of my best qualities. I’m outta here.” He opened the door and walked out. John turned to Victor. “I’m walking him out, I’ll be right back.”

The two were at the front door when Greg turned to John. “I wanted to ask you something...about Molly.”

John’s face turned sober. “Yeah?” he asked hesitantly, instantly feeling protective of his friend. 

“Does she like me? I mean, more than like a friend? I've caught her sneaking glances at me and I know she’s had to talk about me to you…” His brown eyes bored into John’s, as if trying to mentally coax an answer from him.

John was floored. Why would Greg even ask this question? Unless… He shot him a pointed look. “Greg, be straight with me. How do you feel about Molly?”

He looked down at the floor, feeling sheepish. When he returned John’s glare, he was blushing. “Well, I think she’s really sweet and cute. And she likes to do things that Irene won’t do, like roller skating. I’ve been trying to get Irene down to the Roller-Rama ever since we got together, but she refuses. And she wouldn’t go to the sock hop at the community center, or the beach bonfire...I don’t want to badmouth her, but we’ve been together for a year and a half and I’m starting to think she only wants to be with me because I’m on the football team, like it improves her social status or something. And the way she went on about that Holmes kid...it’s like she forgot that I was there. Molly just seems a lot more sincere. But she’s so shy around other guys, except for you.”

John put both hands on Greg’s shoulders and looked him square in the eye. “You really want to break up with Irene for Molly? Then you need to be serious about it. No waffling. Molly’s very special to me and I don’t want to see her heart get broken. She really likes you but she feels she doesn’t have a chance with you, or any other boy at school. If you hurt her, I’ll kick your ass. I mean it.”

Greg didn’t waver. “I know you will. I have to get through this dance tonight, and then I’m going to sit Irene down and have a talk with her. She’ll be hot, but she’ll get over it, and she’ll find a new guy in no time.” He held out his hand. “Thanks John. I better get going.” John grabbed it and the two exchanged a friendly shake. “Anytime bro. Good luck.”

He watched him leave, and after he closed the door, he leaned back against, heaving a huge sigh. He wondered how Molly would take the news. Hopefully she wouldn’t think it was a joke.

Victor appeared. He frowned upon seeing John. “Everything okay?”

“I hope so. Let’s go into the kitchen and get some lemonade. I’ll tell you after I’ve poured our drinks.” _Boy am I glad I’m single. This love shit is way too complicated_ , he thought.

*****  
Mycroft Holmes strolled down the street of his new neighborhood, taking in the scenery. The houses were as large like theirs back in England, but he felt they weren’t as grand or stately. Many of them were very modern, and one was even painted pink, how gaudy and undignified! What he did like about his new house was the in-ground pool in the back. Mycroft loved to swim. Before they moved his father, Sidney, had a membership to The Diogenes Club and one of the perks was unlimited use of the pool. Mycroft was there every chance he got. Thanks to constant swimming and cutting back on sweets, he lost a considerable amount of weight. Sherlock and Eurus were always making cruel remarks about his size; one time Eurus even laced a bowl of his Yorkshire pudding with rat poison. He had only eaten a few spoonfuls before realizing the taste was off, and he had spent the night vomiting. Sherlock was unsympathetic; his parents were horrified but scoffed at Mycroft’s insistence that she be placed in a mental ward. He may be brutally honest and a bit on the sociopathic side at times, but he wasn’t dangerous like Eurus, or completely cold and cruel like Sherlock. One day, a body would be found behind an alley somewhere and he would know one of them would be the one to put it there. But despite everything, he did love his siblings. He just wished they would go into therapy. He felt Mummy and Father were too dismissive of their behavior, especially Eurus’. She was the reason they moved all the way to America in the first place…

He pushed those thoughts aside as he approached the last house on the street. It was a lot smaller than the others, but it was still spacious. It had a slight Victorian feel to it, which instantly comforted him. For some reason, he felt compelled to walk up the stairs and to the front porch. He stood there, looking around. Off the left side was a huge palm tree, which looked out of place compared to the tasteful shrubbery that surrounded the home, but had to keep reminding himself this was common in California. 

Beads of sweat formed on his forehead. He pulled a handkerchief out of his pocket and wiped them away. He knew the state had a warm climate, especially during the summer, but he didn’t know if he’d ever get used to being under sunshine most of the time. Sherlock and Eurus instantly took to the weather; declaring it most excellent and that the constant rain and fog of London had gotten dreadful and tedious. A Holmes could not stand to be bored, or bad things would happen.

He heard strains of a piano coming from inside the house; he instantly recognized the tune as Beethoven’s Moonlight Sonata. Whoever was playing it was good and had a decent ear for music, but being a talented pianist himself, he knew they could do much better. All the Holmes children were musically inclined. Sherlock and Eurus played the violin and performed in many recitals at school---when they bothered to attend school that is. When they would duet together, it was pure magic.

His thoughts were interrupted by the sound of a woman’s voice. “That was lovely dear, you’ve improved so much since last month. Now run along, I know you’re looking forward to tonight. I’ll see you again next Saturday.” 

Mycroft ran down the steps and moved to the side of the house, concealing himself next to a tall green bush, but still able to see the comings and goings. He saw a tiny, brown-haired girl who looked to be fifteen or sixteen with yellow pigtails that matched the short-sleeved yellow blouse she wore. She had plaid knee-length shorts on and yellow Mary-Janes. She had a big smile on her face, which quickly disappeared. She turned her head in both directions and Mycroft knew that she was looking for her ride which hadn’t showed up yet. 

Something suddenly stirred within him; and he felt himself getting warm. _Ah, sentiment_ , he decreed. _You think she’s cute. You like her smile and the way she wears her hair._

Mycroft was not one for relationships. He had taken girls out as a favor to Mummy and Daddy and the girl’s family, who was always in the same social class as them. But it was usually to classical music performances or fancy dinners. He didn’t do the typical dates like the working-class or middle class teenagers. It was something he never sought out. And all the girls he did take out were silly and vapid, gossiping about who wore what and who dated whom, and it wasn’t nice, harmless gossip either. They were spiteful in their remarks. It was all so beneath him. But for some reason, he believed this girl was not like all the others. She competently played the piano. She wasn’t wearing makeup and dressed conservatively, but there was also a quiet playfulness about her that Mycroft thought was refreshing. Before he knew it, he had stepped out from his hiding place and approached her.

“Good afternoon,” he greeted with a smile that one would call predatory.

The girl gasped and stepped back. “You scared me!”

“I apologize. I didn’t mean to frighten you. I was taking a walk through the neighborhood and I heard you play the piano. You’re quite decent, but there is a lot of room for improvement.”

Her dark eyes widened, and he could read a combination of surprise and annoyance in her face. “Who are you?” she asked. Mycroft found he enjoyed the sound of her voice. He smiled at her. “Mycroft Holmes.”

The girl gasped again. “Holmes! I’ve heard about you. Well, one of them. She scared my friend. Are you going to do the same to me? Tell me my life history just by looking at me for a few minutes?”

Another smile, but this one didn’t reach his eyes, and the girl actually shuddered. Eurus and Sherlock would be thrilled at the reaction. “I can if you want me too.”

She vehemently shook her head. “No. Besides, there’s nothing interesting about me anyway. I’d bore you to tears.”

He stepped even closer, taking in every part of her. She smelled heavenly, like fresh cut roses. “I sincerely doubt that. Do you live far? I could walk you home---”

“No, she interrupted very quickly. My mom will be here in a few minutes. I don’t mind waiting.”

He was undeterred. There was something enticing about this girl. “Perhaps we can go back to my house and you can call your mother from there. I could play the piano for you while you wait.”

Before she could respond, the door opened and a petite woman of sixty appeared, her gray hair done up in a tight bun. She frowned upon seeing Mycroft. “Molly dear, are you okay? Who is this boy?”

Mycroft held out his hand. “I’m Mycroft Holmes. I just moved into the neighborhood.” 

The lady shook it and smiled. “Hello dear, and what an unusual name! My name Lydia Smallwood. Have you met Molly Hooper? She’s a wonderful girl and a wonderful pianist.” She glanced fondly at Molly, who while was genuinely relieved to see Mrs. Smallwood, she was still a little spooked at her odd encounter with Mycroft. 

“We just met Mrs. Smallwood.” She bit her lip, trying not to look at the tall ginger-haired boy with the piercing ice blue eyes. “Uh, my mom isn’t here yet, do you think I could wait inside until she comes?”

“Why of course dear.” She smiled at Mycroft. “Would you like to come in too? I’m making some tea.” Molly silently pleaded that he would decline as she didn’t want to spend anymore time in his presence, but before he answered, she saw her mother’s Ford station wagon coming up the street. Molly wanted to breathe a sigh of relief, but kept it inside. “My mom’s coming now. Thank you Mrs. Smallwood, I’ll see you next week.” She quickly glanced at Mycroft but didn’t look at him directly. “Um, goodbye Mycroft.” She rushed down the steps and into the waiting car. As it took off, Mrs. Smallwood quizzically looked at Mycroft. “I wonder what got into her.”

Mycroft just shrugged, but silently he was grinning from ear to ear. “Mrs. Smallwood, I’d be delighted to have tea with you.” _And I can find out more about my little Miss Hooper..._

*****  
John opened the door for Molly and put an arm around her as they walked towards the entrance to the Roller-Rama. Molly had called John after her piano lesson and told him all about her encounter with Mycroft. John had calmed her down and told her he would look after her, and if he saw Mycroft he would give him a piece of his mind. He longed to tell her about his conversation with Greg, and that the other boy wanted to date her, but he felt that wasn’t his place, and that Molly would probably think he was fooling her. But if she and Greg could become a couple, he could protect her too, and the weird boy would back off knowing she had a boyfriend.

“Let’s forget about Mycroft and anyone else named Holmes, and have fun tonight,” John reassured his friend. Once the two entered the roller rink, the bright lights and the loud rock & roll music washed away Molly’s fears, and she broke out into a big grin.

*****  
John skated up to the railing to catch his breath. He’d been out there on the rink for an hour and he needed to take a break. The place was packed tonight. It was half price night for Culverton Smith High students, and almost the entire school population seemed to be here. 

Molly, Mike, and Janine skated over to John. “You okay buddy?” Mike asked.

“Yeah,” John panted. Just taking a quick breather. I think I’m going to go out, inhale some fresh air for a few and I’ll be back. Save me a spot on the rink!” He left the rink and went to the table where their shoes were. He took off his skates, placed them under the table, put on his sneakers, and walked out to the front, saying quick hellos to some of his fellow classmates who were going in. 

He moved to where he could see his car and leaned up against the building, closing his eyes and singing along to the music, which could be heard all the way through the parking lot. He opened up his eyes and gazed up towards the sky. It was 7:30 and the sun was beginning to set. Off to the right, a glowing half-moon hung in the orange-pink sky. 

As John watched the skies, he didn’t see a sleek black motorcycle with purple flames park next to his car. He didn’t see a lean, muscular figure dressed in a black leather jacket, black T-shirt and tight blue jeans get off with the grace of a ballet dancer and remove his black helmet, revealing slicked back dark hair, curling at the nape of his neck. He didn’t see the boy’s breathtakingly beautiful face turn to his, and he didn’t see his ethereal multi-colored eyes stare at him with the fire of a thousand burning suns. He didn’t see Sherlock Holmes staring...and _wanting._


	3. Fascination

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Miss Eurus makes her first appearance, Sherlock is a sexy little stalker, Molly and Victor are protective best buds, and John is a stubborn idiot (as usual).

John stood there outside the Roller-Rama, eyes closed, letting the evening California breeze wash over him. Now relaxed and with fresh air back in his lungs, he was ready to go back inside and skate some more. But then his relaxed feeling disappeared. He could feel someone standing next to him and they weren’t making a sound. Then he smelled tobacco and he wrinkled his nose. He hated the odor of cigarettes. _Great, now my clothes and hair are going to stink and I’ll have to take a second bath when I get home._

He heard a deep chuckle, and he almost jumped out of his skin. He snapped his eyes open, and standing next to him was what could be described as sex on two legs. The boy was much taller than John, his black hair slicked back except for one curl that rest against his forehead. Lean but muscular legs were wrapped in tight blue jeans, and he wore a black leather jacket over a very fitted black T-shirt. He gazed intensely at John, a smirk on his full pink lips which a cigarette was dangling from. But it was those eyes, catlike with swirls of blue, green, and gray…

John panicked. He realized who he was standing next to. Jesus, it’s that Holmes kid Irene prattled on about. _Okay John, stay cool. What can he do? Right now it seems all he and his siblings do is talk._

Sherlock took a drag of his cigarette and blew out the smoke in a way that John could only silently describe as seductive. He was literally like a cat swathed in leather and denim. He smirked at John again, and the blond was quickly losing his patience.

“If you’re just going to stand there and stare at me, take a picture, it’ll last longer. I have friends inside waiting for me.” He glared at the greaser, dark blue eyes flashing with irritation.

John wheeled around to go back in, but he suddenly felt two long arms wrap around his waist and warm breath ghosting on his neck. He could smell a heady mixture of tobacco and gasoline. 

“Oh I’m going to do more than just stare, angel face. Forget your bloody friends, you’re coming with me.”

John was caught off guard for a moment at hearing the deep British baritone, but he quickly composed himself and easily pried the taller boy off of him. Playing football certainly had its benefits. John spun around, nostrils flaring, anger spreading over his body. “Don’t you ever touch me again, you freak!” he spat. With one last murderous look, he turned on his heel and went back inside the roller rink. 

Sherlock wasn’t even fazed. He watched John leave, more turned on than before by the sight of the short, muscular blond with the eyes the darkest shade of blue he’d ever seen, and was so glad he decided to skip the dance at the country club. _It’s a lot more interesting here_ , he mused to himself. With a devilish grin on his face, he followed John inside.

*****

Greg sat on a lounge chair by the pool. He was the only one out here. All the other club members were inside acting like they were better than everyone else, and he couldn’t stand it. Irene had wandered off to the gardens with Kate and he was actually relieved to have some time alone to himself. He had politely excused himself from Mr. and Mrs. Adler, saying he wanted to get some fresh air. 

He watched the moonlight shine down on the blue tinted water, becoming mesmerized by the ripples of light dancing off the liquid. He had come here a few times with Irene this summer to swim, but found the other teenagers a little to snobbish for his liking. 

He drew a deep sigh, picturing himself at the Roller-Rama, skating with his friends...and Molly. John told him he was taking her tonight and a stab of jealousy spiked through him. Well, once he broke off things with Irene, he could ask Molly out, but he didn’t want to scare her off. Maybe a movie, or a day at the beach…

“So, did you break up with her yet?” Greg tore his eyes away from the pool to see a girl with jet black hair done up in an elaborate bun, small white flower tucked in behind her left ear, wearing a pristine white satin sleeveless dress smirking down at him. “What?” he said, startled. He’d never heard her approach him.

“I do hate repeating myself,” she frostily replied in a clipped accent. “Did you break up with her yet? She’s been cheating on you.”

A spark of annoyance flashed on Greg’s face. “Who the hell are you?” he barked, forgetting her last comment about Irene cheating.

The girl sighed dramatically and sat down next to him, perched on the edge of the lounge chair. “Not the most dignified greeting, but compared to all the other dull idiots I’ve had to suffer through tonight, I’ll take it. My name is Eurus Holmes. And you’re Greg Lestrade.”

“And you’re the freak girl with the freak brothers that can’t mind your own business,” he snapped.

Eurus chuckled, and Greg thought it sounded a little too evil. “I’ve heard worse insults than that, usually involving four letter words. People are so crass these days.” She leaned back in the chair and stared out at the pool. It’s lovely isn’t it? I’ve always enjoyed being near water. I can’t wait to see the beach. It’s the perfect place to sit and observe. Mummy and Father would holiday sometimes in Brighton and I would spend all day sitting on benches and just watching.” She turned to Greg. “I know you’re wondering how I knew Irene was cheating on you. I’ll tell you if you like.”

“Cheating?” Greg sputtered in astonishment.

“You weren’t even listening to me were you? Well, it happens with most people who don’t have the level of intelligence I possess.”

Greg snorted. “Sorry if we can’t all be geniuses. But then you’d be bored if we were.”

Eurus smiled. She quite liked this boy. “You don’t seem that upset at my news. I thought you’d be furious, wanting to confront her and demand who her other lover is...oh wait...you were planning to break up with her anyway.”

Greg got up. “I’ve had enough. My love life is none of your business Ms. Holmes. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m getting the hell out of here. I need to be somewhere normal, with normal people.”

He stalked off, nearly missing Mycroft as he went back into the main ballroom. Mycroft glanced at him and sniffed dismissively. The ginger-haired teen met his sister, who was still lying in the lounge chair, her white kitten heeled pumps on the ground beneath her dangling toes. “I see you’ve made another one of your infamous deductions sister mine. What did you say this time?” 

Eurus didn’t look at her brother, continuing to gaze at the pool. “Nothing too devastating, just that his girlfriend was committing adultery. I did neglect to tell him her other lover was another woman. He’ll get to see it for himself.”

Mycroft joined his sister in watching the pool. “Gorgeous isn’t it? But I doubt you’ll be able to drown anyone in this one. Much too public.”

Eurus just smiled, folding her hands upright under her chin and closing her eyes.

*****

“John, he’s been staring at you for the last half-hour,” Molly whispered to her friend as the two sat at a table eating chicken tenders and french fries. She was starting to get unnerved at the sight of Sherlock Holmes, standing against the wall by the snack bar, ogling John.

“Let him. He’ll soon realize I won’t want anything to do with him.” John dipped a french fry in ketchup and popped it in his mouth. He wasn’t going to be intimidated by that creepy greaser.

A few seconds later, Victor appeared, skates slung across his shoulder. “Hey John, Molly. I’m calling it a night. You two gonna stick around?”

“I won’t much longer if that Holmes boy keeps looking at us like he wants to swallow us whole,” Molly replied with annoyance.

“What Holmes boy?” Victor looked around puzzled.

“He’s standing next to the snack bar. Black leather jacket and jeans,” John said, not looking up from his meal.

Victor didn’t want to look conspicuous, so he sneaked a quick glance towards the snack bar and saw Sherlock. He turned back to his friends, now feeling a little more uncomfortable. “He’s got what my brother calls a “rape face.”

“That’s not funny Victor”! Molly exclaimed angrily. “He grabbed John in front of the roller rink and tried to make off with him!”

Victor’s mouth dropped and he sat down across from John, throwing his skates on the floor. “John, why didn’t you tell me this? We should call the police!”

“Because it’s no big deal. I told him to keep his hands to himself,” John answered nonchalantly.

“It **is** a big deal John, because he followed you inside and is staring at you like he wants to rip your clothes off!” Molly chided. “What if he tries it with someone else?”

“I’ll get the manager,” Victor offered. He stood up, but John reached out and grabbed his hand. “Don’t. I’ll take care of it. I’ll tell him to leave me alone.”

“John, you need to stop trying to fix things yourself. You can’t do it all on your own. Molly’s right. What if he goes after another kid? Then you’ll wonder why you didn’t do anything.” Victor’s eyes bored into John’s.

But John wasn’t moved. “I’ll talk to him.”

“Please don’t,” Molly begged. “Or have you forgotten what happened with me and Mycroft this afternoon?”

“What happened? And who’s Mycroft?” Victor asked.

As Molly began to recall her story, John got up and headed straight for Sherlock. He could see the greaser’s face develop an arrogant smirk, which John was all too happy to remove. 

“I want a word with you,” John told him brusquely. “Outside, now.” He turned and began to head for the exit. He ignored Molly and Victor’s protests. Sherlock, now grinning like the Cheshire Cat, followed the blond.

John led Sherlock to his car. It was then he saw the black motorcycle with purple flames Greg mentioned parked next to his. He whirled around, blue eyes flashing with anger. "Some of my friends know you drive this motorcycle, and you parked right beside me. How did you know this is my car? Are you stalking me? You weirdo!”

Sherlock ignored the outburst. “I honestly didn’t know this is your car, but now I do.” He gave it the once over. “Not bad angel face. But I think you’ll like my hog a lot better. Wanna go for a ride?” He moved closer to John, breathing in his scent, a combination of sweat and soap. On anyone else, it would be ordinary, but there was nothing ordinary about this golden beauty standing before him.

“I don’t go off with strangers. I don’t even know your first name.” John was stone-faced.

“The name’s Sherlock and my address is 221 Baker Street,” he replied with a wink.

“I’m not going home with you, and I’m not getting on your motorcycle. I just wanted to tell you to stop staring at me and leave me alone. I’m not interested.”

Sherlock rolled his eyes. “Well I am interested...John.”

“How the hell do you know my first name? I never told you.” 

“I can read lips. I watched you with your friends. It’s a nice name, it suits you rather well.”

“I’m glad you approve,” John retorted. “Now leave me alone. And tell your brother to leave Molly alone. He really scared her. Go find another way to get your kicks.” He locked eyes with Sherlock, face hardened into steel.

Sherlock broke the staredown by smiling. John secretly thought he looked ridiculous. “Well, it’s been fun John, but I guess I should get back home. My family went to some dull little country club dance and I want to have some time to myself before they get back and start bothering me. He motioned towards his bike. “Are you sure you don’t want to take a little ride? Maybe you can come home with me for a while. I have a lot of interesting experiments I can show you. How do you feel about the violin?”

John couldn’t help but laugh. “I’d rather have a root canal than be alone with you.”

“Your loss angel face.” Sherlock hopped on his bike and grabbed his helmet. “I’ll see you around John.” And then he was gone, zooming off into the night. John watched him leave, shaking his head in disbelief. _Molested and propositioned by a damn greaser. My mom will have a cow. But at least he left and didn’t bother anyone else. You can handle this John Watson. You got Sebastian Wilkes to back off, you can get this Sherlock Holmes to do it too._

“John!” he heard Molly’s voice cry out. He turned to see his friend and Victor coming towards him. “I was about to call the cops!”

John smiled. “I told Sherlock to back off and he left. I also told him to get Mycroft to leave you alone. We have nothing to worry about.”

“I’m not so sure,” Molly said. “I have a bad feeling about this.” Victor nodded in agreement.

“Look, if he or his siblings try anything again, I’ll call the police, okay? Trust me,” John reassured his friends. He placed an arm around each of them. “Come on, let’s go back inside and get some skating in before the place closes.”

As the three made their way back to the Roller-Rama, Sherlock Holmes sat across the street on his bike watching like a hawk surveying its prey.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Teen Jim shows up next chapter!


	4. The Wayward Wind

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eurus tangles with Jim and the two Sebastians (warning for mild violence), romance is in the air for Molly and Greg (but how long will it last)? and shirtless John washing a car is a lovely thing to see, especially for stalker Sherlock.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote most of this chapter while listening to a rainstorm video on YouTube and it kind of shows.

John slowly opened his eyes. Sunlight was streaming in through his bedroom curtains. He could already feel the heat from outside seeping into his room. He sat up in bed, stretched, yawned loudly, and got up, switching on his fan that sat on his dresser. He exhaled as the cool air covered his face.

Reaching into a drawer, he found a white T-shirt and slipped it on. There was a knock at his door. “Johnny honey, can I come in?” his mom called.

“Sure Mom,” John watched her mom open the door. “I’m leaving for church. You can stay home today, I know you’re tired from your night out, and I want you to get some rest before your shift at Mrs. Hudson’s tonight.”

“Okay Mom.” He gave her a small kiss. “Keep cool, it’s already hot out there.”

“Weatherman says it’s going to be 93 degrees by later this afternoon.” Mrs. Watson smiled ruefully at her son. “One more paycheck, and then I’m buying that air conditioner for the living room. Good thing our house is only one floor.” She ruffled his hair. “Love you sweetheart.”

“Love you too Mom.” She closed the door, and John stood back in front of the fan. These sweltering days were when he wished he had a pool. He could go to the beach, but his car desperately needed a wash, so he decided he would cool off that way. He glanced up at the clock. It was almost eleven. He would be working at The Big H from six until ten so he had plenty of time to get his ride nice and shiny. He opened up another drawer and pulled out his red swim trunks, ready to start his day.

*****  
**Early afternoon**

Greg was driving down Benedict Road, his car radio playing Buddy Holly but he wasn’t paying attention to the music. His mind was still on his visit to Irene Adler that morning before church. He had confronted her about her cheating on him. At first she denied it but eventually she admitted she had been unfaithful.

_How did you find out? Who ratted me out?_

_It doesn’t matter how I found out, what matters is that you were cheating._

_I’m sorry Greg. You’re an amazing guy, it’s just that…_

_You don’t have to say anything more. As a matter of fact, I’ve been thinking for some time now about ending our relationship._

_You have?_

_Yeah, so you don’t have to feel that guilty over what you’ve done. Although it would have been nice if you came clean with me in the beginning._

_Again I’m sorry. I really mean it. So, when you were thinking about ending our relationship, did you have someone else in mind?_

_Actually I did, or I do._

_Do you mind if I ask? Is it Mary? Jeanette? Stacey?_

_No Irene…it’s Molly._

_Molly? Molly Hooper? The flat-chested nerd?_

_I don’t care about her chest and she’s not a nerd, she’s just quiet. Stop being so shallow._

_I mean, it’s just, I’d never picture you dating a girl who wasn’t...more socially active in school._

_Irene, you never see her because you don’t go to dances unless they’re the formal ones, or to the roller rink, or other places normal teenagers go. Molly does. She went skating with John, Mike, Janine, and Victor last night. That’s what I want, a girl who will go to these places with me and not act like they’re beneath her. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you this sooner, but that’s the way I feel._

_Well Greg, I’ll just have to wish you good luck and that we can stay friends._

_Same for you Irene…_

Greg was now sitting in front of Molly’s house, nerves frazzled, wondering how to approach her. He ran a hand through his brown hair and glanced up at the pretty yellow rancher. Just do it Greg. Either she says yes or no and you move on. Steeling himself, he got out of the car, went to the front door, and rang the doorbell. Moments later, Sylvia Hooper opened the door and smiled at seeing him. “Hello Gregory! What brings you here?”

He smiled sheepishly. “Hi Mrs. Hooper. Is Molly home?”

“Yes, she’s upstairs reading. Why don’t you come in out of this awful heat.” Mrs. Hooper made room for Greg to come in. “I’ll go and get her.”

Greg stood in the living room, hands in his shorts, his chest getting tight in anticipation of seeing Molly, hoping he wouldn’t screw this up. 

Soon he heard footsteps and he watched Mrs. Hooper and Molly come down the stairs. Molly looked adorable in powder blue shorts and a white sleeveless blouse, hair pulled up into a ponytail, feet bare. Her eyes widened in disbelief upon seeing Greg. “Mom says you’re here to see me?” 

“Yeah, I want to talk to you, if that’s okay.” 

“I’ll leave you two alone,” Mrs. Hooper said, going into the family room. Molly stood at the front of the stairs, hands clasped. “Why don’t we go into the kitchen. Mom made fresh lemonade.”

Greg followed her into the room. Molly opened the fridge and took out a brown pitcher, setting it on the kitchen counter. She reached for one of the cabinet doors and took out two glasses. As she did so, her shirt rose up revealing a tiny patch of pale flesh. Greg fought the urge to reach out and caress it. She poured him a glass and handed it to him. “Here you go.” 

“Thanks.” He took a gulp, enjoying the cold sweet liquid hitting the back of his throat. “This is really refreshing.” Molly smiled and sat down at the table. She motioned for him to join her and he did. She took a sip of lemonade and set the glass down. “Now, what did you want to talk to me about? 

Greg thought it best to come out and be honest. “I broke up with Irene this morning.”

Molly gasped and she quickly covered her mouth. “Oh Greg, I’m sorry, really I am. You must be devastated.”

“Actually I’m not. I was planning to break it off anyway. Then I found out she was cheating on me so I decided to do it sooner---”

“She what?” Molly was shocked and angry. “How could she run around on you? You’re perfect.” Then realizing what she said, she grew red like a tomato and quickly looked away, feeling stupid and afraid Greg would laugh at her.

However, she was completely taken by surprise when he gently grabbed her chin and pulled her towards him. “You’re perfect too,” he breathed and before she could react, he leaned in and softly kissed her. When he broke away, she just gaped at him for a few seconds, unable to say anything. Then finally, “Why did you kiss me?”

“Because I wanted too,” he calmly replied.

“This isn’t some joke you’re pulling on me isn’t it? Did Jimmy put you up to this?” she asked, beginning to get irritated.

“No!” he exclaimed. I broke up with Irene because I want to date you! I want you to be my girl Molly.” 

Molly was floored. It was only two days ago that she told herself a boy like Greg would never want anything to do with her, and now the guy she loved and adored had dumped the hottest girl in school for her? This couldn’t be real.

“You need to pinch me, because this is a dream. You’re a football player. It’s an automatic rule that football players date cheerleaders, not nerds like me.” She stared down into her glass of lemonade. 

“I don’t think you’re a nerd Molly. I think you’re a sweet and wonderful girl and I want to go steady with you. Irene doesn’t like doing normal fun things. I want to be with someone who likes sock hops and drive-ins and roller skating and hanging out listening to records.” He placed his hand on top of hers, which made him shiver. “So come on, will you be my girl?”

Molly’s head snapped up and she looked at him. “You really mean it?”

“Yeah, I really mean it.”

“Then of course I’ll be your girl. I’d be stupid to turn you down...I’ve liked you for a long time,” she admitted, blushing again.

Greg grinned a grin that could have rivaled the size of California. “Then why don’t we make it official and go on our first date, right now. How about we go to Speedy’s Ice Cream Parlor for some banana splits? My treat.”

Molly enthusiastically nodded. “That sounds wonderful. I have to be back by four though, I’m working at Mrs. Hudson’s tonight.”

“Don’t worry babe, I’ll have you home in plenty of time.” He stood up and took her hand, kissing the top of it. She giggled, feeling absolutely giddy and still in disbelief that Greg Lestrade, handsome popular jock, was now her boyfriend. “I have to tell my Mom I’m leaving. Wait right here.” She bounded out of the kitchen and into the family room. Greg did a fist pump, a big goofy smile on his face. He couldn’t think things would get any better.

*****  
Jim Moriarty sat under a big shady maple tree trying to keep cool. Regent’s Park was generally crowded on summer weekends but today’s hot weather had people either indoors or at the beach. The place was practically deserted, and his friends Sebastian Moran and Sebastian Wilkes wanted somewhere to hangout and smoke weed.

Moran, or Little Seb as he was known around town, was a short and stocky blond with sharp green eyes who planned to go into the army after high school graduation. His dad had served in the Korean War as a mechanic and Little Seb idolized his father. Both men had tattoos of tigers on their right shoulder but Seb’s was a tiger cub, so Jim nicknamed him Little Tiger. He was like a tiger, a fierce scrappy boy who had no qualms getting into fights to protect those he loved and was loyal to, but he wasn’t a troublemaker. Unlike Sebastian Wilkes.

Wilkes was “Big Seb,” a twenty year-old six foot lean but mean brown-haired machine with dark blue eyes. It was well known around town that Big Seb was a raging homosexual who preferred younger boys. He was out and proud and if anyone dared to call him a queer or a fag, he’d retaliate with his fists or a pocket knife he carried with him all the time. Big Seb’s family was rich, and their prominence kept him safe from the long arm of the law. It also helped that the boys he did go after had families who were afraid of having their children labeled as queer, so they kept quiet. The exception however, was John Watson.

Jim remembered the Christmas party last year at Big Seb’s mansion on Baker Street. He had been chasing John for weeks and the fifteen year-old kept turning him down. Everyone in his social circle knew John was bisexual, so Big Seb thought he had a chance at finally getting with him. That night, he was fed up with John saying no so he pinned him against the wall and tried to kiss him. But he underestimated John’s strength and ended up with a beer bath and a threat of further violence if he tried it again. On New Year’s Eve, at yet another party, Big Seb laid his eyes on little Henry Knight and that was all she wrote. Unlike all the other teenagers, Henry enthusiastically responded and the two were together ever since.

Jim had no time for relationships, they only bogged him down. Little Seb tried to set him up with his older sister Gretchen, but she was eighteen and only interested in college boys. He had plans. He was going to college. He knew he had his pick of schools, he had the grades to prove it. Which is why he could be a greaser and have some fun before graduating. 

Big Seb slid down next Jim and leaned back against the tree trunk, taking a long hit off his joint. He blew out the smoke and grinned. “Now this is the life man.” He put the blunt in front of Jim. “You want some?”

“Hell no. If Dad caught me smelling like Mary Jane I’d have a sore ass for a week. It’s all yours.”

Big Seb pursed his lips. “You’re such a square Jimmy. You don’t smoke, don’t drink, don’t have sex...why do I hang around with you?”

Jim chuckled darkly. “Because no one else can stand to be around you. If it wasn’t for me and Little Seb you’d have no friends, pervert. I don’t care about your hankering for fifteen year-old sweet meat. It doesn’t affect me.”

Little Seb came jogging up, his blue T-shirt soaked with sweat, his face pale as a sheet. “What the hell’s the matter with you Little Tiger?” Jim demanded.

“There’s a freaky chick down by the pond. I caught her trying to drown a baby duck. I stopped her, but then she told me in this weird accent that I shouldn’t be upset about a duckling dying at her hand when I’m so eager to go into the army and kill people. I’ve never seen this bitch before in my life and yet she knows I want to enlist. She’s heading this way. I’m not sticking around.” He started towards the park entrance, but Big Seb jumped up and grabbed his arm. “You mean to tell me you’re afraid of a girl? You pussy,” he spat.

Little Seb yanked his arm free and pushed him back roughly. “I’m not a pussy. If you had seen the look on this chick’s face and heard that voice of hers, you’d be spooked too.” He narrowed his green eyes at the older boy. “And if you insult me one more time, I’ll go see Henry and tell him you tried to put the make on me. So back off.”

This time, Big Seb blanched. There was no way he was losing his little Henry, he really loved him. “Okay, okay, I’m sorry,” he apologized. 

Jim chuckled again. “Look who’s the pussy now,” he mocked. “Oh darlings, this is why ol’ Jimmy doesn’t do love. It screws up your mind and makes you act like an idiot.” He stood up, brushing dirt off his jeans. “It's way too hot for me. I’m too delicate to be out here in this mess.” Both Sebastian’s rolled their eyes at his remarks. Then Little Seb’s eyes widened with fear, and stood rigid as a board. “Fuck! There she is!”

Big Seb and Jim turned to see Eurus Holmes, dressed in tight dark denim pedal pushers, a red and white gingham short-sleeved top tied at the waist, white canvas sneakers, and a red carnation in the crook of her ear. Her black hair was hanging loose, and she had no trace of sweat anywhere on her body. 

She smiled deviously at the three boys. “Good afternoon. I’ve already met the future soldier.” She trained her eyes on Big Seb and Jim, her clinical gaze lasting longer on the shorter, dark-haired greaser. 

“I’m telling you, we should split guys. She’s crazy,” Little Seb warned. “Don’t let her looks fool you.”

“I’m not afraid of little girls,” Big Seb growled. He took a step towards her, menace in his eyes. “Seems you’re not wanted here doll, so why don’t you get lost.”

Eurus continued to smile. “I’m not afraid of big boys who prefer to sleep with little boys. And this is a public park isn’t it? So I can stay here as long as I want.”

The tall greaser was full of rage. “I generally don’t hit girls but I’ll make an exception for you. You’re going to regret those words bitch.” He raised his hand. Little Seb stepped back and looked away. Jim just watched his furious friend and Eurus, fascinated by the unfolding drama. He wasn’t going to step in, somehow he knew this girl could take care of herself.

In just seconds, it was total mayhem. Jim heard Big Seb scream and fall to the ground. Little Seb cried out “You goddamn psycho!” and took off running. He saw Eurus standing over the greaser, holding up a bloody switchblade and smiling that unnerving smile. 

Big Seb somehow managed to get up. Tears flooded his eyes, and he was holding his left arm. Jim saw she had slashed him beneath his elbow. His shirt was covered in bright crimson blood. “You crazy bitch! Look what you did to me!” he screamed.

“A simple case of self defense. You came at me first. And I have a witness.” She motioned towards Jim. “You'll vouch for me, won’t you?” 

Sebastian looked towards his friend, horrified. “No Jimmy. You can’t take up for this freak. She tried to kill me!” His eyes were pleading.

Jim eventually shook his head. “You were going to hit her Big Seb. She had to defend herself. I told you that using your brawn instead of your brain was going to get you in trouble, but you didn’t listen. Now run home to Henry, I’m sure he’ll love to hear all about your latest adventure. If you keep this up, there won’t be anymore younger boys left for you and you may have to...oh I don’t know...sleep with someone your own age?” He laughed, and for the first time in his life, Sebastian Wilkes was scared. Without a word, he left the park, cringing at the pain from the wound aggravated by his movements.

Eurus placed the bloody switchblade back in her pocket and smiled sweetly at Jim. Thank you for taking up for me. That’s probably the nicest thing anyone’s done for me a in a long time.” She planted a soft kiss on his cheek, which caught him off guard. “Now, how about coming with me to get a bite to eat. I’m suddenly starving.” She took hold of his hand.

Jim was hesitant. “Hey wait! I don’t even know your name, you cut up my friend, you tried to drown a baby duck, and you expect me to go on a date with you?” 

Eurus softly chuckled. Jim thought there was something sinister about it, but he shrugged it off. This hot, boring Sunday had quickly become anything but, and he was liking it. Whoever this girl was, she certainly was unlike any girl in town, and he dug the sound of her voice.

“To answer your first question, I’m Eurus Holmes and I’m fifteen, although you didn’t ask my age so either you knew it already or you felt I was close enough to your age not to care. Second, I didn’t cut up your friend, I just nicked him in the arm. He’ll live. Third, even if I did try and drown a baby duck, there are tons more down at the pond so one dying isn’t a tragedy, and fourth, yes, I do expect you to go on a date with me. You’re interested.”

Jim was floored. Girls never showed any interest in him, they felt he was too creepy, mainly because of his intelligence and his association with the two Sebastians. They wanted jocks or cubes or a combination of both. He’d long ago realized if he was going have someone, that someone would be a lot different than anything Sherrinford had to offer. Now here was a girl with a British accent that carried a switchblade and had no qualms about violence that wanted to spend time with him. He should have said no. He should have run off like the two Seb’s and back to the safety of his home.

Instead, he replied “I’m a bit hungry myself. Have you been to The Big H yet?”

*****  
“Angel Baby” by Rosie and the Originals played on a silver portable radio that sat on the sidewalk of the Watson home. John was bent down by front right wheel, polishing the hubcap to a perfect shine. His shirtless physique, sporting a nice golden tan, had been the highlight of the day for his neighbor across the street, seventeen year-old Becky Dimmock. Although she had a boyfriend, she still liked to look, and the sun-kissed, blue-eyed teen was one of her favorite sights.

As Becky stood on the porch admiring John, she saw a black motorcycle with purple flames speed by. Then the rider suddenly circled around and slowed down upon seeing John. Becky watched John take notice of the bike, and she thought she saw fury cross his handsome face. She watched the biker park his ride behind John’s car and remove his helmet. Becky nearly collapsed when she saw the slicked back hair, like the midnight sky, the pale face with the most profound set of cheekbones she ever laid eyes on, and a lean but defined body stride over to John. She could see his expression and she instantly recognized it. No doubt about it, it was a look of pure lust.

Becky longed to watch the encounter between the two teenage boys, but her older brother Mark decided it was a good time to spoil things and walk out on the porch. “Come on Becky, get inside, Mom needs you to help her with dinner.” 

Silently fuming, Becky followed her brother inside, not being able to see the drama that was unfolding.

*****  
“What do you want Sherlock? I’m busy. I don’t have time to play games with you,” John seethed.

The radio was now playing “Devil or Angel” by Bobby Vee.

“I was in the neighborhood and then I saw you. You’re a bloody gorgeous sight you know.” He gazed at John, growing enchanted with his bronzed skin and taut muscles, and he could feel himself hardening inside his already too-tight jeans. 

John casually picked up a hose that lay near his feet. “I think you could do with a cold shower.” He aimed the nozzle at Sherlock, a coy smile on his lips.

Suddenly the taller boy lunged forward and yanked the hose out of John’s hand. Before he could protest, Sherlock wrapped his arms around the blond tightly. He leaned down and pressed his forehead against John’s. “You’re bisexual,” he nearly whispered.

John squirmed to get out of his grasp. “Not here on the street where everyone can see!” Sherlock released him and grinned madly. “Let’s go inside then.”

“No fucking way. I’m not letting you inside my house. And how do you know I’m bi?”

“Last night at the roller rink, I watched you. You were comfortable with touching girls and guys, and you skated with them both. You’re not afraid to be seen with either gender.”

“These deductions of yours are really freaky. Brilliant, but freaky.” John picked the up the hose and unhooked it from the faucet attached to the side of the house. Sherlock followed him, multicolored eyes focused on his backside. He nearly reached out with a long pale hand to touch when John turned around. “Look, I need to get a shower and a nap before I go to work. I think it’s time you hightail it out of here, especially before my mom gets home. She doesn’t care if I have a boy in the house, but she’s not partial to greasers.”

Sherlock cocked his head and frowned. “Why is that?”

“I had one try the same crap you did last year at a Christmas party. Only he wasn’t as lucky as you. I poured beer all over him and threatened to break his nose. When Mom found out, she was livid.”

Sherlock chuckled. “You are feisty John Watson.”

“Okay, how did you find out my last name? This is scary. Incredible, but scary.” John ran a hand through his hair. 

“Don’t be so simple John. I saw it on your mailbox.”

“Oh,” was all John could muster.

Sherlock stepped closer again. “I’ll go, if that’s what you want.” 

John nodded. “Yes please. That’s what I want.” He placed the hose on the porch step and was about to open the door when two arms wrapped strongly around his waist and a pair of warm lips peppered kisses up and down his neck. “Hey! Get off me! I told you I wanted you to go!” He grabbed Sherlock’s hands and pried them away. Whirling around to face the other boy, he saw that now familiar smirk, and anger boiled up inside him. He’d had enough. He lashed his hand out and backhanded Sherlock hard. The greaser gasped, grabbing his face and furiously rubbed it. 

“If you’re not off my property in thirty seconds, I’m calling the cops,” John threatened, his dark blue eyes narrowed into tiny slits. Sherlock finally took the hint and scrambled to his bike. In under a minute, he was tearing away from John’s house and down the street to parts unknown.

John quickly entered the house. He shut the door and slid down on the carpet. The living room was unbearably hot even with the windows open. But the stifling heat was not on his mind, just one boy who wasn’t taking no for an answer, and he didn’t know how long he could keep him away. Sherlock Holmes wasn’t like Sebastian Wilkes, or any other guy he’d met. This one was smart, too smart, and he had a feeling that he could do whatever he wanted and get away with it. 

Thunder rolled in the distance. Any other time, John would welcome a summer storm. But now, it just seemed ominous, as if matching the mood of what happened a few moments ago, and a shiver crept up his spine.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> BAMF Mrs. Hudson appears next chapter!


	5. Shake, Rattle & Roll

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A confrontation at The Big H leads to an unwanted late night visitor for John.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Quick and dirty chapter. All I can say is, don't mess with Mrs. Hudson! We also get a little BAMF Mary too, and some interaction between the Holmes siblings. There's backstory for Sherlock which gives a little insight as to why he's such a messed-up sixteen year-old.

John stepped out of the bathroom, towel around his waist, heading to his room when his mom appeared in the hallway. “John, we need to talk.”

He knew when she called him John and not Johnny that it was serious. “Okay Mom, can I put a robe on first?” She nodded and he dashed into his room, taking the plaid robe that hung behind his door. He dropped the towel and fastened the robe and came out. “What’s the matter?” he asked his Mom.

“Let’s go sit in the living room.” He followed her and joined her on the brown sofa. It creaked as John sat. He looked into her blue eyes, which were identical to his.

She sat back and frowned. “While you were in the shower, I got a call from Addie Dimmock. She said she witnessed you being manhandled by a boy in the street and a few minutes later, this boy took off like a bat out of a hell on a motorcycle.” 

_Shit_ , John silently cursed. He was hoping not to involve his mother into the situation with Sherlock. “It’s really nothing Mom. Just another greaser who won’t take no for an answer. He spotted me at the Roller-Rama Saturday night and what can I say, I guess he liked what he saw.”

John’s mother sighed loudly. “This isn’t a game John. You need to take harassment like that seriously. It was just last year that horrid Sebastian Wilkes had you pinned against a wall.” She glared at him sharply. “You need to tell me when other boys are bothering you. I don’t want you getting hurt.”

“But Mom, I can handle it---”

“No John, you can’t. I know you like being the man of the house, taking care of me, and thinking you can handle any situation that comes your way, and I appreciate it so much. When Ham died, I didn’t know what I was going to do. I didn’t want to rely on you, you were only thirteen. But you stepped up. You were strong for both of us. However, you’re just sixteen. You are way too young to be dealing with sexual predators on your own. You should have called the police.”

John looked down at his lap. The last thing he wanted was for his mom to worry; she had enough troubles. “I’m sorry Mom. With you trying to make ends meet, I didn’t want you worrying about me. And I didn’t want the police involved, I can only imagine what some would say about me liking boys as well as girls, they’d think it was my fault and I led them on…” Tears welled in his eyes. He hated feeling helpless and weak. 

“Then it’s their problem if they feel that way, not yours. You’ve always been honest with me about your preferences. While I would prefer for you to settle down with a nice girl and give me grandchildren in the future, I also know that if you find a nice boy, it won’t matter to me, as long as you are happy. What I don’t want is for you to be a victim of someone with malicious intent. Now don’t take this the wrong way Johnny, but you are a gorgeous young man, and a lot of people will find you attractive. I know whenever I see Victor here, he looks at you with so much love in his eyes. He’s such a nice young man, I think you two would make a handsome couple---”

“What? No way!” John shook his head. “Victor Trevor in love with me? I can’t believe that.”

“Believe it Johnny. He’s sweet on you, as the kids say today. I had the same look after I met your father.” Mrs. Watson patted her son’s knee. “Look, I’m sure all I said will go in one ear and out the other. You’re just like Ham, stubborn and self-reliant. But this is the second boy in under a year to make advances---I just want you to be careful, okay?”

“Mom, you know I will.” John smiled at her and reached for a hug. “I love you.”

“Oh Johnny, I love you too. Now get yourself ready, you have to be at Mrs. Hudson’s in an hour. Although with this crazy weather, I wonder if you’ll be busy tonight.” She stared out the living room window. Storm clouds were gathering in the sky again, promising more rain, thunder and lightning.

John’s mind was on a completely different storm. One called Sherlock Holmes.

*****

Sherlock watched in amusement as Mycroft looked in the mirror, checking his rear. He was wearing blue jeans, clothing he’d never worn in the seventeen years he’d been on this planet. He had bought them after losing weight, but had no use for them---until now.

His insufferable older brother had gone on and on and on about a girl he met while walking in the neighborhood yesterday. The girl, Molly Hooper, sounded boring as watching paint dry, but because she played piano and didn’t look or act like a “harlot” (Mycroft’s word) he suddenly eschewed his motto of “caring is not an advantage” and advanced on her like a bee on honey. Naturally, she got scared off. Mycroft was not the most charming when it came to approaching girls in the rare times he actually talked to one. 

Sherlock was the heartthrob of the Holmes siblings, gaining many admirers while they were in England. He was no stranger to sex, he’d lost his virginity at fourteen to Emilia Rigoletti, an exchange student from Italy who attended school with him. Emilia had chased Sherlock since the first day she arrived at Appledore, and he had all but ignored her until the day she nearly burnt down the school by deliberately setting a fire in the chemistry lab. When she told him she did it to get back at their chemistry professor, who Sherlock also hated, he walked with her back to her house and they slept together. They dated for nine months, until Sherlock laid eyes her on her older brother Dario, who was eighteen and on break from university. Sherlock promptly dumped Emilia and began sleeping with Dario. Emilia threatened revenge, until his sister Eurus said she would reveal to everyone that Emilia actually set fire to the chemistry lab because she was angry the chemistry professor ended their illicit affair. But Sherlock’s dalliance with Dario didn’t last, after Mr. & Mrs. Rigoletti realized that an eighteen year-old sleeping with a fourteen year-old didn’t look good for the family’s reputation. It was also at that time that Sherlock knew he only wanted to be with boys from then on, and be with them he did. His parents and Mycroft were horrified at promiscuous behavior, but Eurus found it amusing. 

Now he’s here in America, California of all places, land of dreams where gullible young girls come to try and become famous actresses but end up either waitressing in greasy dives or selling their bodies on the street. Mummy and Father thought moving across the world would give them a clean slate, a fresh start where no one would know who they were. That they could become another upper-class suburban family, doing mundane suburban activities. He didn’t want any of it. Until he saw John Watson last night at the roller rink.

He had been out riding, checking out the town, utterly trying not to be bored, when the big building with the red neon sign that displayed Roller-Rama in all its glowing glory, piqued his interest. Here, he could observe those that were going to be his classmates in the next few weeks. He could find out their secrets and their habits and file them away in what he dubbed his “mind palace,” if it was interesting enough. So he found a spot next to a cute little red car and stood near his bike, watching, biding his time. He was glad he did, when he spotted a short, fit, impossibly blond boy walk outside and lean against the building, gazing at the sky, looking like he had no cares in the world. He had the stereotypical, quintessential perfect All-American California dream look he read so much about, and he knew as he laid his multicolored eyes on him, he wanted. It was as simple as that.

But John was not like the others back in England who automatically succumbed to the genius’ manipulative charms. He was headstrong and unwilling, hurling insults he’d heard a thousand times before from miserable school bullies. It would only be a matter of time before he’d give in though. Sherlock just had to be patient, something he was not accustomed to. 

Sherlock snapped out of his thoughts and went back to smirking at Mycroft. “Really brother? All this for a mere girl that sounds as exciting as a sock drawer? Wasn’t it you who kept drilling it into mine and Eurus’ heads not to bother with normal people because they are nothing but goldfish and they would never understand us? Now here you are, contradicting yourself and acting like a hypocrite.”

Mycroft turned to look at his brother with a sneer. “I would say the same for you and this John Watson. So don’t lecture me when you’re also being a hypocrite, brother mine.” Then he smiled, his icy eyes gleaming. “I did find out from Mrs. Smallwood that my Molly and your John both work at the same place, a drive-in called The Big H. It sounds absolutely pedestrian, but unlike us, they must work for their money.”

This time Sherlock sneered. “So that’s why you’re dressing like you have a personality. You’re going to this Big H to find Molly. Not to mention gorge on a few cheeseburgers.”

“John may be there tonight as well, I know you’re itching to go too. Plus, a few cheeseburgers might do you good, you’re so thin someone could get a paper cut from hugging you, that is, if anyone actually wanted to touch you. Haven’t had much luck since we came to the land of opportunity, have you brother mine?”

Before Sherlock could reply with a retort of his own, Eurus breezed in, barefoot, her dark tresses windblown, grinning madly. “Hello brothers dear.”

“Where have you been all afternoon? You look absolutely debauched,” Mycroft spat.

“Least one of us got lucky,” Sherlock muttered. He desperately needed a cigarette.

“I didn’t go all the way with him idiots. I’m only fifteen. Plus he refused. He said he wanted to take things slow, he’s a virgin like me. It was actually very nice, as I would have if he wanted to. He’s almost as intelligent as we are.” She flopped down on Mycroft’s bed and started humming to herself, reliving the afternoon with Jim Moriarty parked in his car at the abandoned Belgrave estate. They never did make it to The Big H.

“What do you mean almost as intelligent? I can’t believe anyone in this backwater beach would have our mental capacity,” Sherlock derided.

Eurus sat up and shook out her hair. “I know, I was surprised too. But Jimmy is incredibly smart. He’s leaving for college after he graduates next year. He’s gotten offers from all the Ivy League schools. You’d like him Sherlock. He’s not a whore like you, but there’s something dark inside him that I can’t wait to unlock. When I knifed his friend at the park today after he tried to hit me, Jimmy took my side. A complete stranger, over his longtime friend---”

Mycroft held a hand up, flabbergasted. “Hold up Eurus! I thought you stopped carrying your switchblade!”

She just grinned. “I did, until today. I’m a teenage girl in a strange new country Mycroft. I have to have protection when I go exploring in places I don’t know. Now will let you continue my story?” When he didn’t respond, she gave a snort of satisfaction. “As I said before I was rudely interrupted, Jimmy took up for me and I asked him out on a date. He agreed, being attracted to me. So now we’re a couple, and I’m going with him tonight to this Big H restaurant, where your obsessions are employed.” 

Sherlock laughed darkly. “So all three of us are going to this place. This should be good.”

*****

The stormy weather kept the crowds away at The Big H. Mary Morstan was waiting on a couple with two kids, while Molly and John wiped down picnic tables. Mike Stamford was inside helping Angelo take inventory, and Mrs. Hudson was in her small office, tallying the proceeds from Friday and Saturday.

“You think she’ll get us go home early?” Molly asked John.

“Not sure, but I’m staying. Sometimes it’s nice to work when it’s not busy and you can actually hear the music.” He grinned and threw a wet rag at his friend. “You just want to go play kissyface with Greg.”

Molly’s face was bright pink. “John Hamish Watson!” she cried. “Behave yourself!”

John laughed and sat down at one of the tables. “Oh come on, I can’t tease my best friend once in awhile? Especially after luring one of the hunkiest guys away from the school siren? You’re going to be a legend at Culverton Molly Louise Hooper.” 

Molly blushed again. “I still can’t believe it. It’s like a dream and I don’t want to wake up.”

The parking lot had two new cars. John recognized Jim Moriarty’s 1958 blue and white Pontiac Bonneville, but the other one was something he’d never seen before. It was a very sophisticated dark green number that looked super expensive. Mary and Molly met John, also intrigued with the car.

“What a looker,” Mary enthused. “I bet it’s one of those foreign jobs.”

“You want to take it? I’ll get Jim,” John offered.

“Sure. I’d love to see who’s behind the wheel of that beauty.” Mary skated away, while John went to see Jim. Molly went back to wiping tables.

“Hey Johnny boy,” Jim called cheerfully. “Meet my new girl. Isn’t she delicious?” Jim waved his hands toward Eurus, who gave John a knowing smile. 

“Since when did you get a girlfriend Jimmy?” John asked, astonished. Jim was not one for dating, instead focused on his studies.

“Since today. I met her at Regent’s Park. You should have seen her take on Big Seb.”

John grimaced at the mention of Sebastian Moran, images of the tall greaser backing him against a wall, trying to force his lips on his, flashing through his mind. “Well, anyone who puts that creep on his place is cool with me.” He smiled at the dark-haired girl snuggled up against Jim. “Nice to meet you. My name is John Watson.”

“Eurus Holmes, and the pleasure’s mine, although my older brother will have even more pleasure seeing you. He’s in the car next to me.” Her smile broadened even wider, and John’s face turned as white as a ghost as she said her name. _Christ, it’s Sherlock’s sister!_

Just then, Sherlock got out of the passenger door of the green car and immediately advanced on John. “Hi angel face. Didn’t think you’d be seeing me so soon, did you?” 

Molly hurriedly skated over to John upon seeing Sherlock. “Hey, get away from him!” she yelled, pushing him away from John. “He’s told you he isn’t interested!”

Mycroft exited the car and when Molly saw him, her eyes went wide. “Oh God, this is an ambush! You all planned this didn’t you? It had to be Mrs. Smallwood who told you all about me!”

Mary, who was told of the Holmes’ actions earlier that evening by John and Molly, approached the foursome. She shot daggers at Mycroft and Sherlock. “You need to leave. John and Molly told me all about you, and if you don’t do as I say I’ll call the cops.”

Eurus stayed inside the car with Jim, watching everything unfold, tingles coursing through her body, loving every minute of the drama. “What’s going on?” Jim asked. He was confused about what he was witnessing.

“You’re seeing my brothers taking what’s theirs,” Eurus answered matter-of-factly. “I already claimed you as mine, so Sherlock and Mycroft are doing the same thing. Isn’t it wonderful?”

Jim just stared at her open-mouthed. Then he threw his head back, laughed, and pulled her closer, planting a passionate kiss on her lips. “You’re utterly mad darling, and I love it.” Who knew a fifteen year-old girl could be so extraordinary? He turned his head back to the action, seeing Mary in front of John and Molly, protecting them like a mother hen guarding her chicks.

“You’re not providing good customer service. I should complain,” Sherlock mocked Mary. “Not letting me and my brother have what I want.”

“You two are complete psychopaths. Norman Bates wasn’t this crazy,” Mary shot back. “Now if you don’t get in your fancy ride and get the hell out of here, I will call the cops. My dad is on the force. Don’t push me.”

“Their sister is here too, in the car with Jim,” John said.

“Well, we’ll make them leave too. Trust Jim to find a chick as odd as he is,” Mary replied bitingly.

Mycroft swiftly moved next to Molly and gently grabbed her arm. She gasped. Mary and John were right there, but Molly waved them off. “I’m okay. What do you want Mycroft? Can you please just leave before things get even worse? I’m asking you nicely.”

Sherlock snorted, and John sent him an icy glare. “I don’t want to hear a sound from you.”

“I came here to talk to you. Will you just allow me a few minutes?” Mycroft pleaded and on the inside he was shocked at the words coming out of his mouth. He never pleaded. He always ordered.

“I have a boyfriend now. And once he finds out what you’ve done, you’re done for. So don’t touch me,” Molly calmly threatened him.

A bitter laugh ripped through the crowd. Sherlock stepped up, hands on his hips. “Oh come on Mycroft, don’t believe a word of that tripe. Who would be interested in her besides you?”

John lunged for the greaser, rage exploding out of him like fireworks on the Fourth of July. Despite him being on skates, he kept his balance and punched the taller boy square in the face. Jim and Eurus jumped out of the car, and she pulled out her switchblade. Mary saw it, and immediately skated over to the girl, knocking her to the ground. Molly pushed Mycroft away and rushed for inside to get help. Jim just stood there, thinking this was the most excitement Sherrinford had in years.

Seconds later, a woman with a blonde bob in a tight-fitting plum dress and red heels was outside, a shotgun trained on the group. “Just what the hell is going on out here!” she hollered.

“Mrs. H!” John cried. “Thank God!”

Molly, Mike and Angelo were outside behind Mrs. Hudson. “They started it,” Molly accused Sherlock and Mycroft. “They’re the ones we told you about, the creeps who’ve been stalking us this weekend!”

“Don’t forget this broad, she’s the boys’ sister,” Mary called out, firmly holding a struggling Eurus. Mary had been able to grab the switchblade and put it in her pocket. “She had a knife, but I was able to get it away from her.”

“Okay, I’ve heard about you freaks,” Mrs. Hudson growled. “If you think you are going to come onto my property and harass my employees, you’ve got another thing coming.” She cocked the shotgun. “I’m not afraid of any of you. My husband used to be in the mafia. I’ve smacked a few gangsters in my lifetime, and you’re not my first sex maniacs.” She slowly made her way towards Sherlock, who was now on his feet, clutching his nose. “Hmm, it’s a pity about you. You’re quite the looker. But I’m way too old to be swayed by flutter bums. So if you and your siblings don’t make like a drum and beat it, well, let’s just say the pond at Regent’s Park will be a little bit more crowded come Monday. Now get your sorry asses out of here!” She waved the gun again, and Sherlock and Mycroft rushed to get in their car. Mary threw Eurus into Jim. “Here Jimmy boy, take your psycho chick and scram!” 

Within a matter of seconds, the parking lot was empty. Mrs. Hudson had a satisfied smile on her face and she lowered the gun. “Well, that was fun! I haven’t had that much excitement since Lucky Pagano’s bachelor party! It’s a shame I couldn’t use my handcuffs this time.” Everyone gaped at her, and she shook her head. “Good grief, you kids need to get out more!” And with that, she went back inside.

John, Molly, Mary, Mike and Angelo stared at each other in disbelief for a few seconds, then they all bust out laughing, all the tension of the previous altercation rapidly draining away.

*****

John collapsed into bed, exhausted from his encounter with Sherlock and his shiftwork at The Big H. He had taken another shower to get the smell of grease and bleach out of his hair and clothes. The storms had cooled off the house considerably, but John plugged the fan into an outlet by his nightstand so he could have the air blowing on his face to help him get to sleep.

He was alone; his mother was at a friend’s house playing with her weekly Sunday night bridge group. It was eleven o’clock and she would be back at one-thirty. 

John turned off the light and closed his eyes, it wasn’t long before sleep overtook him. 

*****

He thought he heard faint shallow breathing coming from the foot of the bed. John lay perfectly still in the darkness. He had no idea what time it was, but judging by the lack of light, it had to have been maybe twelve or twelve-thirty. Had his mother come home early? But she wouldn’t be in his bedroom, she would go straight to her room. Which meant an intruder was here in the house with John, who was all alone.

He didn’t move. He would pretend to be asleep. Maybe whomever it was would decide to grab what they wanted and leave. He silently scolded himself for not keeping a weapon near him when he was alone late at night. 

Suddenly he realized the faint breathing was closer and he was paralyzed with fear. He felt a hand caress his cheek, and he gasped, nearly jumping out of bed. Then he heard an all-familiar chuckle, and dread filled his body. He slowly reached up to turn on the lamp which sat on his bedside table. Sure enough, a Sherlock Holmes stood next to him, wearing nothing but black jeans and a wolf-like grin on his face. 

John had no time to react. Sherlock pounced and John felt himself being pushed back onto the pillows. Their faces were practically touching. John peered into those multi-colored eyes. This time, they were nearly black. Black with lust. John wanted to scream but he didn’t. Who would hear him? Who would come to his rescue this time? It wasn’t like earlier when he was outside and could run to a safe space. He was too worn out to fight. He decided if Sherlock got what he wanted, maybe he’d finally leave him alone and move on. “Just get on with it,” he croaked. “But my mom will be coming in at one-thirty, so make it quick.”

Sherlock chuckled again. “It’s only quarter of twelve angel face. We’ve got plenty of time.” He lifted his head and inhaled deeply. “You smell so good.” One large pale hand found its way under John’s shirt, and the other reached for the waistband of his pajama bottoms. “And I’m sure you’re going to feel even better for me…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cliffhanger time!
> 
> The car Mycroft and Sherlock are riding in is a 1960 Aston Martin DB4GT Zagato. Only 19 were made. Also, can you spot the Doctor Who reference?


	6. Runaway

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a pretty dark chapter. You can thank The Hollow Crown for that, as I was writing it while watching Benedict be the creepy, scary, shouty hunchback king.

In the dead of night, as storms once again rolled through Sherrinford, John Watson was caught in one of his own. Sherlock Holmes broke into his house and was now on top of him in his bed, intent on claiming what he thought was his. At first, John decided not to fight him, he was tired from his previous encounter with him at The Big H. But when Sherlock started pawing him and trying to pull his pajama bottoms off, a fire ignited inside him and he was determined not to end up being a rape victim. He was only sixteen and still a virgin. His first time was not going to be a violent coupling with a psychopathic greaser. He fought Sebastian Wilkes off and he could do the same with Sherlock.

With a furious cry, John kneed Sherlock hard in the groin. He yelled and John flung him roughly off the bed where he landed on the other side, hitting the floor with a thud. John jumped out of bed and raced for the front door. As he pulled it open, he was grabbed from behind and pulled to the living room floor. 

Sherlock was once again on top of john, tearing at his clothes. Through lighting flashes, John could see the eerie determination on his face to have his way. The shorter boy fought him with every fiber in his being, pulling and punching and slapping back. “Get off me you filthy pervert!” John screamed. 

After a few minutes of trying to defend himself from those large pale hands that were constantly groping his body, he was exhausted once again. Sherlock sensed it and with renewed strength, grabbed John’s arms and pinned them over top his head. Madman’s grin on his face, he dove for John’s lips, but the blond turned his head to the side. “You can do whatever you want, but you’re not going to get the satisfaction of kissing me,” he spat. 

Sherlock’s response was to slowly lick a wet stripe from John’s neck to his earlobe with his tongue. John cringed at the touch and shuddered at the moist heat on his skin. “You taste heavenly,” Sherlock darkly murmured. “Better than all the others I had back in England.”

As he continued to kiss and suck and bite his neck like some love-starved vampire, John’s eyes widened with fear at those words. _Better than all the others? He’s attacked more?_ John began to struggle, gaining some strength after having lie still. 

Sherlock suddenly snapped his head up. “They all consented,” he said, as if reading John’s mind. “I’ve never had anyone resist me---until you.”

“Well then, I’m proud to be your first one then, so to speak.” John was quickly gaining his second wind, and once again kneed the greaser in the groin and pushed him off hard. He shot up off the floor and ran out the door into the dark and stormy night. Steady cool rain was pelting him but he didn’t care. He had escaped, and he was making his way across the street to the Dimmock house. He could tell Addie what happened as she saw what Sherlock tried to do earlier today. 

Just then, a cop car came down the road, stopping right beside John’s house. A well built man with blond hair cut military style opened the driver side door and rushed towards him. John recognized the cop as Dave Morstan, Mary’s dad, and he figured she must have told him about the showdown at The Big H. He saw another officer exit the passenger door, this one was also blond, but much taller and broader. He didn’t know who he was. 

Officer Morstan approached him. “John, are you okay? Mary told me what happened tonight, and she asked me to check in you in the morning. But then we got a call from an anonymous tipster pleading with us to come here because they were afraid you’d be attacked.”

John began to cry, his salty tears mixing in with the fresh taste of the rain falling on his body. He fought to stay strong, but the events of tonight, intertwined with what happened last Christmas, was too much for him to bear anymore. He crumpled to the ground in a fit of sobs. Mary’s dad crouched down and cradled him. “Tell me what happened John.”

Before John could speak, the other officer bolted from his position, sprinting towards the side of the small house. John and Dave looked up to see the cop dive to the ground. They heard shouts and a gruff “Don’t resist young man!”

Sherlock, John silently said. That cop got him. He was still in my house. Waves of dread and fright tumbled over him, and he shuddered again. But he had to face him. He had to look him square in the eye and explain everything. This time, he wasn’t going to fight this on his own. There were witnesses to his behavior. Someone had known Sherlock was planning to rape him. Let others get involved. Maybe this time, he’ll stop for good.

Moments later, the broad-shouldered officer appeared, dragging a handcuffed Sherlock towards the two men. “I saw him trying to escape out the side door.” He held up a pill bottle in his free hand. “I also caught him with these.”

“That’s my mom’s sleeping medication!” John exclaimed, eyes blazing with hot fury. So not only are you an attempted rapist, you’re a junkie pill thief too!” 

Sherlock just smirked at John’s outburst. “You would have enjoyed it eventually.”

John screamed and lunged towards him, but Dave held him back. “Let it go son. He’s going to jail. Now let’s get out of this storm and you can tell me everything that happened.” Dave nodded to the other officer, who threw Sherlock into the back of the squad car and locked it. “I’ll drive him down to the station Dave. You stay here with the kid,” the officer said.

“Thanks James.” Dave and John watched as the car pulled away from the side of the road, and into the rainy night.

Dave smiled weakly at John. “Officer Sholto is great, one of the best cops I’ve ever worked with. He used to be in the army until he got wounded and couldn’t serve anymore. Only been on the force for two years.” His face hardened back into cop mode. “Okay, let’s get out of this damn rain and into your house.”

John nodded. “Can I call my mom? I want her to be here when I explain what happened.”

“Of course John. She should be here.”

The two headed for the house, not saying a word between them.

*****  
Wanda Watson was both enraged and ashamed. She should have never let her son stay home alone, after hearing what happened earlier that night at The Big H. She felt so guilty. But she was also proud of John. For fighting Sherlock off and for being brave enough to tell Dave Morstan all that had happened since Saturday night. 

She wanted to murder Sherlock Holmes. She wanted to march right down to the jail and bash his slimy brains in for trying to rape her baby. When Sebastian Wilkes molested and tried to kiss him last year, she had confronted his parents and threatened to press charges, but John had talked her out of it. He was afraid of harassment if everyone knew he was bisexual. He was afraid that people would blame him for Sebastian’s actions. So she dropped it. Then Sebastian had apologized, only because he found a boy that wasn’t repulsed by him and he got what he wanted.

John was a gorgeous child; he started attracting the attention of older boys when he was just eleven. Wanda remembered when they still lived in Los Angeles, John had walked home from school one day when a fifteen year-old from the neighborhood accosted him and in no uncertain terms, announced that he was taking John back to his house to have sex. Wanda and Ham had taught John about what to do if someone tried to kidnap him, and John responded by kicking the older boy in the crotch. The other boy’s parents couldn’t believe their son would do that, until he tried to make off with a nine year-old boy just a week later. The Watsons moved at the end of the month, settling in Sherrinford. Harry had stayed behind because she was eighteen and living on her own.

Wanda wasn’t stupid to know smaller towns had their own problems, but in less than a year John had been attacked by two different boys and while Sebastian was no longer a threat, she wasn’t sure about Sherlock Holmes. After John revealed that he and his siblings had made others in town uncomfortable, her first instinct was to send John to Los Angeles to stay with Harry and Clarence. John of course refused, his home was here, his friends were here, and as he said “I’m not going to give Sherlock Holmes the satisfaction that he scared me off.”

Wanda made him sleep in her bed after he gave his statement to Dave Morstan. She went to John’s room and saw the crumpled sheets, knowing what had taken place in them, her face getting hot with anger. She would pay a visit to Sherlock’s parents tomorrow. She had their address. Lucky Sherlock gave it to John when he tried to seduce him. How surprised he would be when the Watson he wasn’t expecting would show up at his house instead. 

*****  
Sherlock sat on the floor of the cold jail cell, revisiting everything that happened over the previous 24 hours in his mind. After John punched him at The Big H and Mrs. Hudson warned him away with her shotgun, he and Mycroft returned home. Eurus had gone off with Jim Moriarty to god knows where.

His parents weren’t home, which was typical. Mycroft had said nothing, going straight up to his room. He wouldn’t admit it, but he had been scared shitless by Mrs. Hudson and the empty threat to dump his body in the pond at Regent’s Park. Sherlock swiped a pack of cigarettes from the locked desk in the study (which he didn’t know why his father always locked it, he could pick it in seconds) and went out to the pool. 

He took off his leather jacket and draped it on the back of the chair and sat down, eagerly awaiting the taste of tobacco. He lit up, took a long drag, and leaned back, closing his eyes, only thinking of John and how he looked in his carhop uniform --- turquoise T-shirt with the The Big H logo on the right and “John” printed on the left that brought out the sapphire blue of his eyes, and denim cutoffs that showed off his golden, muscular legs. Legs he pictured wrapped around his waist, preferably in his bed. 

Two hours later, he made the decision to go back to John’s house and take what he’d been wanting since Saturday night. So he slinked off to his motorcycle and rode away, eagerly picturing everything he would do to the blond. He may be only sixteen, but he had many sexual experiences, probably more than the average drunken frat boy.

Sherlock leaned against the white brick wall, desperately craving a cigarette, wishing he had John’s mom’s pills, even if it was the main reason he’d been caught and locked up. He occasionally dabbled in harder drugs when he wanted to quiet his mind or he needed a quick high. His parents had habitually threatened to send him to rehab but always chickened out at the last minute. 

He pulled his knees up to his chest, shivering at the coldness in the room. The cop who caught him, Officer Sholto, had been kind enough to give him a shirt. His jeans were still wet from the rain, and the heavy fabric was even more clingy. 

“Hey pretty boy, you’re being way too quiet,” a slurred voice called from the cell next to him. Sherlock’s head whipped up, nose wrinkling in distaste at the sight of the much older drunk man sitting on a hard wooden bench, leering at him like a pinup model in a magazine. “Why won’t you talk to me?”

Sherlock frowned and turned away. Is this what he sounded like when he made his advances to John? Is that what his face looked like whenever he saw him? He could never tell, he was always too caught up in his own lust. If so, he now knew how the other boy felt.

“Be a little more friendly pretty boy,” the man beckoned, now off the bench and walking towards the bars of his cell. “I don’t bite...hard.”

Sherlock locked on him with icy hatred. “Does your wife know you seek male prostitutes on the weekends?” The man’s eyes bugged out and Sherlock smiled smugly. “If you don’t want her to find out, then leave me alone.” He slunk back to the bench, hands furiously rubbing his temple.

Dave Morstan entered the jail, approaching Sherlock. “You’re one lucky attempted rapist,” he spat to him. Over the advice of his mother, John Watson decided not to press charges. But you better stay the hell away from him. Don’t come to his house, and you and your siblings are banned from The Big H. If I find out that you’ve tried to make contact with him, I’ll personally escort you and your family out of town. Do I make myself clear?”

Sherlock didn’t say anything, he just nodded. Now wasn’t the time to make a smart comeback. He knew he dodged a bullet. 

“I spoke to your parents. They’re horrified of course, I think they’ve had a lifetime of these experiences with you. They want you to stay the night here and think about what you’ve done.” Officer Morstan bored his brown eyes into Sherlock’s. “Of course, one night in the slammer won’t be enough regarding what you’ve tried to do to John. And I think being propositioned by ol’ Powers over there might also help to put a dent in your deviant behavior. Don’t feel special though, he likes younger men despite that ring on his finger. His wife, God I don’t know how she puts up with him or that son of theirs, will be coming to bail him out soon, so you won’t have to put up with his come-ons for long. Although that’s probably what you deserve. Get a taste of your own medicine.”

Officer Morstan glanced at Sherlock again, and walked away shaking his head, wondering what happened to turn this teenager into a monster.

*****  
Mycroft couldn’t sleep. He stared out his bedroom window, looking at the angry sky. Another storm was about to begin. He began to wring his hands, and worry. Sherlock was scarily intelligent and somehow he would find out it was him that called the cops and warned them he was on his way to John Watson’s house. He had seen him sneak out on his motorcycle and immediately deduced what he was going to do. After they got home earlier, all Sherlock did was slam things around the house, trying to find Father’s cigarettes, and prattle on about John. How gorgeous he was, how he was so unlike the boys Sherlock had back home, and how desperate he was to have him, and the more he resisted the more he wanted him. Mycroft knew it was only a matter of time before Sherlock lost control, and the family would have to move again. Eurus may have been beyond hope, but Sherlock wasn’t at that stage yet. 

His parents were horrified when they got the visit from Officer Morstan about Sherlock being in jail and the events that led to his arrest. They knew nothing of John Watson. They really knew nothing of their childrens’ comings and goings since moving to Sherrinford. The policeman calmly but gruffly warned them that perhaps they should start paying attention. He didn’t know that their lack of parenting was part of what drove them to California in the first place. So they decided to let Sherlock stay in jail, promising to collect him in the morning. 

Mycroft had spilled the beans about Sherlock’s obsession with John, and his infatuation with Molly Hooper. He said nothing about Eurus. He knew how she would react, and this Moriarty boy seemed to have no care about her personality, in fact, it seemed to turn him on. Let them tear each other apart, maybe it would mean she would leave others alone.

He thought of Molly. She had tried to placate him at The Big H. He knew she was John’s best friend. If she found out he stopped Sherlock from raping him, perhaps her feelings towards him would change. Always the sociopath. He still didn’t want John to be hurt. He didn’t ask to be an object of the Holmes’ twisted desires, and neither did Molly, but it is what it is.

The rain thrashed against the window and lightning glowed and crackled among the swirling black clouds. Mycroft decided he would pay a visit to Molly tomorrow. Mrs. Smallwood had told him where she lived, trying to play Cupid. He would try and make things right in his own sordid way. 

*****  
John was running, not caring about the raging thunderstorm underneath him. The sand was wet and cool beneath his bare feet, attempting to pull him down, but he didn’t care. He had to get away. That sinister baritone was calling out to him, threatening him. “You’re mine, John Watson! And I always get what’s mine. You can’t get away from me!”

John was at the shore now. The waves were rough and relentless, white foam crashing into sand. He turned around and saw Sherlock, clad in black swim trunks, with an evil grin on his face. “You have nowhere to go John. I’m coming for you.” He raced towards him, arms flung out, ready to grab him.

John dived into the ocean, letting the water take him. He could hear Sherlock scream for him but he kept swimming farther and farther away, fighting the unforgiving tide. He’d rather drown than be subject to Sherlock’s twisted desire. Then he felt a pair of hands reach out, clasping his shoulders, and he screamed…

“It’s okay Johnny, you’re just having a nightmare. You’re safe sweetheart, safe at home, with me.” He heard his mom’s gentle soothing voice, and he instantly relaxed. It was just a horrible dream, and he wasn’t in the ocean being grabbed by Sherlock. “Mom,” he whined, leaning into her. She wrapped his arms around him snugly. “Everything is OK. I’m here.”

John felt the tension and anxiety slowly creep out of him as he was nestled in his mother’s comforting embrace. “I want to go to LA to stay with Harry and Clarence until school starts.” He felt defeated, but maybe some time away would keep Sherlock at bay. At least that’s what he hoped.

Wanda just nodded, continuing to hold her son. She was definitely paying a visit to the Holmes house later that morning.

*****  
Mycroft said nothing to Sherlock as he walked with him out of the jail and towards the green Aston Martin. Mycroft got in the driver’s seat and Sherlock got in the other side. After an uncomfortable silence, Sherlock looked at his brother. 

“You called the police and told them I was going to John’s.”

Mycroft sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Yes. I may be a lot of things Sherlock, but a rapist’s keeper is not one of them.”

“I don’t know why it’s so different with me when our sister…”

“Because what she did was a finality. There was to be no more suffering. John would live with endless trauma. He would have kept on suffering,” Mycroft coldly interrupted. 

“You didn’t do it to save John, you did it to look good in the eyes of Molly Hooper, and after you take me home you’re going to see her and play Good Samaritan.” Sherlock leaned back and sulked.

“Nothing gets past you brother mine.” Mycroft pulled out of the jail parking lot and those were the last words spoken during the ride home.

*****  
John put the last of his bags into his mom’s car. She was taking him to the bus stop where he would be catching a bus to Los Angeles. Harry and Clarence had been notified of what happened this weekend and immediately agreed he should stay with them the rest of the summer. 

Molly and Greg had pulled up alongside John. After John called Molly to let him know what happened, she and her new boyfriend had come to say goodbye. “John, please call me everyday while you’re in LA,” she said, grabbing to hug him. 

“I will.” John pulled away and smiled. “I’ll be back Labor Day weekend and we can all hang out okay?”

Molly just nodded, tears forming in her eyes. Their perfect summer was ruined, thanks to those psycho Holmes siblings. 

John looked at Greg. “Take care of Molly please? If Mycroft comes near her again…”

“I’m going to kick his ass if he ever touches her again, I promise.” Greg wrapped a protective arm around his girlfriend. 

The two boys shook hands, and Mrs. Watson came outside. “Ready Johnny?”

“As ready as I’ll ever be.” 

With a wave to Molly and Greg, mother and son were in the car and driving away.


	7. Tell Him No

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short, angsty chapter featuring Wanda Watson as a protective mama bear. Usually in fanfics she's either an abused wife, a neglectful mom, or a booze and pill addict, but here she's a loving parent who doesn't want anyone messing with her baby!

**Los Angeles, California**

John got off the bus, carrying two duffel bags, scanning the busy depot for his sister and brother-and-law. Then he saw a short, petite blond wearing white pedal pushers and a red sleeveless blouse run towards him and he beamed. "John!" Harry happily cried, nearly knocking him down as she grabbed and hugged him.

He laughed. "It's good to see you too Sis." He set his bags down and gazed into lookalike blue eyes. 

"Come on, let's get you home. I don't want to talk about what happened here in this depot with everyone coming and going," she said soberly, picking up one of his bags.

John took the other and followed Harry to her car. "Is Clarence working at the garage?"

"Yeah. He's in for a few hours but he'll be home early this evening. And then we are taking you out to dinner at Pink's, our treat."

John's mouth nearly watered at hearing the name. The Watsons would always go to Pink's for their famous hot dogs whenever Ham had some extra spending money. "That sounds great. I've missed that place."

The siblings approached Harry's car, a 1952 yellow Buick Skylark convertible. They placed his bags in the back and the two hopped in the front. "Sweet ride," John praised his sister.

"Clarence found it at another garage. It was in perfect working condition, the owner got rid of it because he and his wife were having twins and they needed a bigger car." Harry started the ignition and she drove out of the depot parking lot. "This was my anniversary present."

"Clarence sure knows how to give good presents," John remarked, thinking about his car back in Sherrinford.

"I'm so lucky to have him John. I thought I'd never find a decent guy after all the stupid shit I pulled. Let me tell you, being clean and sober really has its benefits." Harry pulled no punches when it came to talking about her past. While John and his parents were in Sherrinford, Harry had gotten involved with a group of greasers and started dabbling in marijuana and booze. When she was twenty, she nearly overdosed on cocaine at a party and was rushed to the hospital. After being released, she quit cold turkey and moved in with a friend and her family. While going through withdrawal, she met her friend's older brother, Clarence Winstead. Clarence was twenty-seven and working at his uncle's garage. The two fell in love and married that New Year's Eve. It was a quick courtship, but they were enjoying a happy marriage and a good life. 

"He's a great guy Harry. At least you don't have to worry about creeps chasing after you." John looked down at the floor, fists clenched.

"When Mom called and told me what's been happening, I was so ready to come to Sherrinford and beat the shit out of him." Harry narrowed her eyes and gripped the steering wheel hard. "Why didn't you press charges?"

John sighed. "His parents are very wealthy. You know how it is with money and the law. When you're rich, you get off. Not only that, I didn't want to sit through a court trial and have my bisexuality come up, as well as the incident with Sebastian last Christmas. Lawyers would say it was my fault because this is the second time I've been attacked. Third actually, if you count that kid in our old neighborhood five years ago. I seem to be this psycho magnet, and I hate it."

Harry reached over and patted his knee. "What about Victor? When Clarence and I came down this April for your birthday, he seemed to be quite taken with you, and he's a pretty decent guy."

John blushed slightly. "Mom said something similar, that he's sweet on me. He's a nice guy but I don't have those feelings for him. He's a good friend."

"Who do you have feelings for?" Harry pressed.

John looked at her directly in the face. "No one. I'm perfectly fine not dating anyone, and after what happened this weekend, I'd rather stay single for a long, long time."

*****  
Wanda Watson stood in front of the double doors to the Holmes mansion, her stomach full of knots, waiting for someone to open the door. A minute later, a slender light-brown haired woman wearing a traditional maid's uniform was there to greet her. "May I help you?" she asked in a courteous British accent.

"Yes, my name is Mrs. Wanda Watson. I'm here to see Mr. & Mrs. Holmes. They're not expecting me but---"

"As a matter of fact, they are expecting you. Please follow me."

The knots in Wanda's stomach began to tighten. How did they know she was coming? Maybe they felt it was given after everything happened. That had to be it. She mentally composed herself as she followed the pretty young maid down a series of corridors. _Good Lord, this house is huge. My little cottage could fit inside it._

Finally the maid stopped in front of another set of double doors, these ones were dark oak. She rapped on the door.

"Yes?" a cultured female voice called out.

"Mrs. Watson is here Mrs. Holmes."

"Thank you Anthea. Please see her in."

Anthea opened the doors and walked in with Mrs. Watson following her. She was in what appeared to be the library, stacks and stacks of books were neatly arranged on several large bookshelves that went from ceiling to floor. It was decorated in a red and black theme. A chess table was set up in the far right corner. Anthea quietly left the room, leaving the three alone.

"Good afternoon Mrs. Watson. I'm Veronica Holmes, and this is my husband Sidney." She motioned to her husband, who nodded.

Mrs. Hudson sized up the couple. Veronica was average height, slender, with jet black hair cut in a fashionable flip. She had icy blue eyes and was very striking. Sidney was tall, with blondish-brown hair, aquiline nose, and very handsome in a totally British and distinguished way. 

"First of all Mrs. Watson, I want to apologize for Sherlock's behavior. He won't come near your son again, I promise," Veronica said firmly.

"No he won't. Because if he tries and rapes my child again he's going to have his perverted behind thrown in the slammer for good. He should be damn thankful John didn't press charges." She glared at the couple, arms folded across her chest.

"How is the boy doing?" Sidney asked, unperturbed.

"How do you think? He's frightened out of his mind! I sent him away because he's scared your son will come after him again!" Mrs. Watson's face was heating up, and her blue eyes were flashing with ire. 

'Mrs. Watson," Veronica began, maybe a drink will calm your nerves---"

"I don't need alcohol Mrs. Holmes. I don't touch it. It nearly ruined my daughter's life." Mrs. Watson was stone-faced. "John has told me that your other children have been bothering his friends. Do you even have any idea what they're up to?"

"Our children are not your ordinary, typical teenagers Mrs. Watson. They have experienced situations that don't apply to run-of-the-mill youth," Mr. Holmes replied, somewhat dismissively.

Mrs. Watson was floored at his answer. "Is that how you're trying to explain away them being pint-sized psychopaths?"

"I'm not a psychopath Mrs. Watson, I'm a high-functioning sociopath. Do your research," a smooth baritone sniped from behind the adults. Everyone turned to see Sherlock Holmes, who had entered the room from a secret side door. 

Mrs. Watson was shocked to finally see the boy who had attacked her son; she was expecting a burly, brawny roughneck, not an impossibly tall, thin, pale child with delicate features. He wore a loose, white button down short sleeved shirt with several buttons undone, showing off his milky white chest, and tan shorts. He left his dark hair ungreased, revealing loose curls on top of his head. 

Sherlock took note of Mrs. Watson's reaction and smirked. "You weren't expecting someone like me were you. You pictured someone broader with muscles." 

"Sherlock, please leave. This conversation is between your mother, myself and Mrs. Watson," his father reprimanded.

"No, it's quite all right," Mrs. Watson replied calmly. She turned towards Sherlock. "I want to see the filthy pervert that tried to rape my son." She inched closer to him. He didn't move. Veronica and Sidney stood there with baited breath.

"I'm not a violent woman, but I could kill you for what you did to my John. Because of your sick and disgusting actions, he left town. He's terrified of you. And if you ever come near him again, I'll make sure John presses charges. Do I make myself clear?" She stared at him murderously.

There was tense silence in the room for what seemed like ages. Then finally, Sherlock spoke. "John left town?" He sounded very remorseful.

"Yes. He's safe, where you can't get to him," Mrs. Watson coldly answered.

Sherlock said nothing. He looked at his parents, then at Mrs. Watson, and ran away, back through the side door. "Sherlock!" his mother yelled.

"Let him go Veronica," Sidney firmly told her. He glanced at Mrs. Watson. "I think he's genuinely upset at that news about John. "

Mrs. Watson nodded gravely. "Good," she spat, voice tough as steel. 

*****

"Molly, why don't you want to come to my end of summer slumber party?" Janine Hawkins asked as the two girls lay on Molly's bed, reading fashion magazines.

"I don't want to face Irene, that's why. I know she'll say tons of awful things about me now that Greg dumped her for me." 

Janine pouted. "Irene's not even coming, she's going to Beverly Hills with Kate and they're not returning until the Saturday before school starts." She leaned in to her friend. "I've been hearing rumors that she and Kate are more than best friends, if you know what I mean." 

Molly was unfazed. Her best friend was bisexual after all. "I wouldn't be surprised. She was cheating on Greg, and it was probably with Kate."

"But Molly, I've never seen Irene go after another girl sexually! She's always dated the most good-looking and popular guys at school!" Janine protested.

"She can be interested in both guys and girls Janine. Look at John." At the mention of her friend's name, she sighed and lay back on the bed.

Janine knew what happened to John after Molly told her when she arrived at the house. "At least John is with his sister and brother-in-law. But he's tough. That Holmes creep will take the hint. Sebastian Wilkes did." 

"Sherlock is no where near like Sebastian. Sebastian is a dumb greaser. Sherlock is a smart greaser, and I've learned that super-smart people are the ones you have to watch out for."

"You don't think he'll stop going after John? Not after he was thrown in jail?" Janine asked.

"I honestly don't know, but I hope so. He told Sherlock many times he wasn't interested, but it only makes it worse. Clearly this is a boy that hasn't been told no often enough."

Janine got off the bed and smoothed down her sundress. "I don't know about you, but I'm starving. Wanna go to The Big H and grab a burger? Mike's helping his dad mow lawns today so I won't be seeing him until tonight. We have a date at the movies. Why don't you and Greg join us?"

"I would Janine, but we already made plans to go bowling with Bill and Sarah. I will however, go to lunch with you. Let me grab my purse."

The two girls were in the hallway when they heard Molly's dad arguing with someone. "I've told you, you are not allowed anywhere near Molly! She's perfectly happy with Greg Lestrade! Now leave before I call the police!" Pete Hooper shouted. 

Molly froze in her tracks. "Oh God Janine, he's here! He found out where I live!" she heatedly whispered to her friend.

"You mean..." Janine began, but trailed off.

Molly clutched her purse tight. "It's Mycroft Holmes. What am I going to do?" 

*****  
Sherlock thumbed through the Rolodex and located the information he needed. He copied the address and phone number onto a piece of scrap paper and shoved it in his pocket. He took out a handkerchief and wiped the plastic card holder clean, and carefully set it back on the kitchen counter. He casually strode out the side door and made sure it was locked back up. 

He walked through the small backyard which led to the street where his motorcycle was parked, hopped on, put on his helmet, and rode away towards his home. Now that he had Harry and Clarence Winstead's address in Los Angeles, he could carry out the next phase of his plan.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sherlock's heading to LA! This will be the start of his redemption but he'll still be a deducing smart ass because that's how we love him.
> 
> Mr. & Mrs. Holmes are modeled after Benedict's parents when they were younger. Looks only though, I'm definitely sure they weren't the unconcerned people they are in this story.


	8. Love is Strange

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Holmes siblings follow their sociopathic hearts while some of the other Sherrinford boys plot to crash a certain party.

**_Los Angeles_ **

John was unpacking his bags and getting settled into the spare room of Harry and Clarence's home. It was a small room, but it had a twin size bed, two windows side by side to the right, a closet, two dresser drawers, and a small bedside table with a radio and alarm clock. Paintings of beach scenes hung on the sky blue wall. It was peaceful and cozy and it's exactly what John needed.

After he got everything put away, he walked down the hallway, through the living room, and into the kitchen, where Harry stood at the counter making grilled cheese sandwiches. John breathed in the delicious smell and smiled at her. "One of my favorite meals," he softly said to her.

Harry faced her brother and returned the smile. "Mine too. I loved grilled cheese sandwich night when I was a kid." She wiped her hands on her apron. "Have a seat. Lunch will be ready in a few minutes."

John sat down at the square dining table, which was directly by the window. He looked out, taking in the brilliant golden sunshine and cloudless azure sky. Harry and Clarence lived in a small neighborhood of one story homes which was minutes away from the main hub of the city and Clarence's garage. It reminded him of his own street in Sherrinford. A pang of homesickness struck him, but he was glad to be with his sister and brother-in-law. He hoped this time away would cool things down, and Sherlock's lust for him would die down and he would move on and forget about him.

How wrong he was.

*****

Sherlock sat in the bus depot waiting on the next trip to Los Angeles, which would be in just half an hour. He stared at the piece of paper with John's sister's address like he was trying to burn it with his mind. He knew what he was doing was stupid and dangerous, but he had to make things right with John. His heart practically dropped into his stomach when he learned John had left town because he was afraid of him, terrified he'd try and repeat his actions of Saturday night. He was the most interesting person he'd laid eyes on in a long time, he didn't want to lose him. 

As Sherlock sat and deduced people walking through the terminal (the woman heading out of town to meet a lover for an adulterous tryst, one going on a business trip thinking he would get a promotion not knowing when he'd return he'd be fired, the teenagers who clearly didn't want to visit their grandparents), he wondered how long someone, namely Mycroft, would figure out he was on his way to find John. His motorcycle was in the garage. He had simply walked down Baker Street towards town, where he found a teenager in a car who agreed to take him into town for ten bucks. The boy was very husky and intimidating, but when Sherlock asked if he was an athlete, he relaxed and started bragging about his accomplishments as a high school wrestler. He learned his name - Carl Powers - and Sherlock knew he was the son of the drunk who propositioned him in jail. He knew Carl had no idea what his father was up to, and kept silent about it. 

Sherlock had been dropped off at Speedy's, a deliberate choice, where he walked the rest of the way to the bus depot, getting its location from the phone book. He'd even gone so far as to wear gloves while holding it so there wouldn't be any prints. He had to make sure he had some time to talk with John before either his parents or Mycroft showed up and dragged him back home.

Sherlock pulled his copy of Hamlet out of his duffel bag and began to read as he waited for his bus to be called. He had read the play at least twenty times but it was never boring to him. He loved its story of madness, jealousy and lust. Themes that never got old, themes that mirrored what had played out in Sherrinford over the last few days. 

Twenty minutes later, the bus to Los Angeles was announced and Sherlock was soon inside the large coach, sitting by himself at the very back, his thoughts only of John.

*****

Molly sat outside under a palm tree in her backyard looking at her shoes. Mycroft was next to her, staring at the frown on her face. She wasn't happy that he showed up at her house insisting he talk to her. She didn't want to see him, but she eventually agreed and told her father it would be okay and he wouldn't stay long. She told Janine to go to the Big H and she would see her later. 

Molly's parents, Pete and Sylvia, stood nervously at the kitchen door, ready to bolt outside at the first sign of trouble. Molly had told them about Sherlock going after John and running him out of town for the rest of the summer.

"Say what you have to say and leave Mycroft. I want to meet up with my friends," she said icily.

"I just wanted you to know I called the police on Sherlock last night. I didn't want him to attack John. I'm disturbed by my brother's actions just as much as you are."

Molly glared at him. "Were you really that worried about John?"

Mycroft was taken aback at her question. "Of course! Do you really think I wanted him to be raped?"

Molly sighed in defeat and peered up at the sky. "No, I don't. I'm glad you called the police. But it doesn't mean it's going to win me over, and I know you were thinking that when you did it. I do have some intelligence."

"I never thought you were stupid Molly. I can tell you're a very smart girl." He moved closer and placed a hand on her thigh. She brushed it away and this time he sighed. "I also think you're a very attractive girl."

She shook her head. "There's going to be nothing between us and you're going to have to get used to that. I'm with Greg Lestrade and he's the boy I've always wanted to be with. You'll have to find someone else."

"Molly..." Mycroft began, but he was interrupted by Molly's parents, who were rushing out to the backyard. "Okay, that's it. We want you to leave," Pete Hooper told the young man.

Mycroft looked at Molly instead, but she shook her head. "Please do as my parents say Mycroft. It'll be easier for all of us."

He stood up, stonefaced. Without a word, he let Pete lead him away from the house and to his car. Molly put her head in her hands and started to cry, and her mom sat down next to her and put a comforting arm around her. "It'll be okay sweetheart. We'll talk to the police and see if they can persuade him to stay away."

Pete returned, angry and red-faced. "My sixteen year-old daughter should not have to be putting up with this insanity. This Holmes family has been nothing but trouble since they arrived. John had to leave town, and now my daughter is in tears and scared out of her mind." He looked at his wife. "What do we do?"

Molly wiped her eyes. "Is it okay if I call Greg and ask him to come over? I'd feel better if he was here."

Sylvia gazed up at her husband. "Pete?"

He nodded. "I have no problem with Greg, he's a good kid. I always thought he was all wrong for that Adler girl. He's too laid back and down to earth. He'll help us protect our daughter."

Molly hopped up and hugged her parents. "Thanks. I'll go call him." She headed for the house.

Sylvia and Pete exchanged worried glances. "I'm frightened Pete. What if Mycroft goes after Molly like his brother did John?"

"We call the cops and press charges, that's what. We have to look out for her. I think all the parents in town do. First that Wilkes kid, and now this. Maybe we should organize a town meeting with other parents. We've got to protect our children."

*****  
Greg was out the door and sprinting to his car. Molly had called him, scared after another encounter with Mycroft, and his blood started to boil. _This jerk needs to be taught a lesson, he angrily thought._

As he approached his car, Carl Powers pulled up behind him. "Lestrade!" he shouted. He got out and Greg tried hard not to roll his eyes. He really didn't care for Carl, he had a reputation as an intimidating bully and he was also extremely oversexed too.

"Carl, can it wait, I'm heading over to Molly's," Greg said firmly.

At the mention of Molly's name, Carl sneered. "Lucky you! She's a little cutie pie. Tell her Carl says hi."

Greg narrowed his brown eyes. "Watch it Powers. She's my girl now, you'd better not touch her."

"Okay, okay, don't get all hot and bothered!" Carl protested, holding his hands up. "I just wanted to let you know I heard Janine Hawkins is having a slumber party next weekend and all the hot Culverton chicks are going. I thought we'd crash the bash and show those lovelies a good old time. Little Seb Moran's in, and so is Jeff Hope, Tim Carlton, Marty Freeman, and Art Doyle. I asked Jimmy Moriarty, but he said no. He's all hung up on some girl he met at Regent's Park."

Greg snorted. "Sorry Carl, but I don't get my jollies jerking off to girls in pajamas. But you and all the other guys have fun." He got into his car.

"You're no fun Lestrade," Carl whined. 

"Believe me Carl, I am fun. I just have my fun in other ways. Now if you'll excuse me, I'm off to snuggle with my girl." Greg started up his car and drove away.

******  
**_Early evening_**

"Oh John, I'm so glad you're safe and okay. Have fun at Pink's with Harry and Clarence, and I'll talk to you tomorrow. Goodnight!" Molly hung up the phone and grinned at Greg. "John is just fine. He's all settled in and everyone's going out to dinner." 

Greg planted a soft kiss on Molly's lips. "I'm relieved to hear that. Now, are you ready to meet Sarah and Bill at the bowling alley?"

"Yes. I could use a night out after this afternoon with Mycroft." She kissed him back and ran a hand through his brown hair. "Let me grab my purse and we can go."

The two went downstairs. Pete was sitting at his desk on the phone, and Sylvia was on the couch knitting, listening to the radio. "Hi Mom, Greg and I are going to the bowling alley. We'll be back at ten-thirty."

Sylvia nodded and smiled. "Have fun you two, and be careful."

"I'll take good care of her," Greg promised.

The two teens left, and a few moments later Pete was off the phone. "Good news honey. I got a group of parents to meet. Charlie Magnussen said he'll give us space downtown at his office. It's planned for Wednesday at six-thirty."

"Wonderful Pete. I hope something good can come out of this."

"Me too Syl. We can't have our kids running scared."

*****  
Sherlock stood across the street from Harry and Clarence's house. It was dark and locked up. No cars were in the driveway. He was relieved. That gave him some time to figure out how to approach John.

After he got off the bus, Sherlock was able to rent a room at a small motel down the street. He showed the clerk a fake ID which listed his age as eighteen. The clerk gave him a suspicious look but didn't say anything. Sherlock deduced he needed the money and probably wouldn't say anything since he did rent out to hookers and their johns. A teenage boy alone would be the least of his worries.

Sherlock had been intrigued by LA, what little he'd seen of it so far. He heard the tales of it being the place to make your dreams come true, and it was the land where all the beautiful people lived. Although his main focus was John, he was also eager to explore Hollywood, seeing what kind of people were actually here. His brain would enjoy unlocking all their secrets. 

Sherlock saw a middle-aged woman, with red hair that had obviously been dyed piled on top of her head in a bouffant, wearing a sundress and flats walking a poodle. As she got closer, she gave him a friendly smile. "Good evening young man. I haven't seen you around here. Are you new?"

"No. I'm here visiting a friend, but it seems he isn't home." He pointed to the well-kept small white one-story. 

"Oh, that house belongs to the Winsteads. Very nice young couple, Harry and Clarence. He works at a garage and she's his bookkeeper. She has a younger brother who's staying with them until Labor Day weekend. I met them earlier as they were heading out to dinner. He's very sweet and a looker too. He'll be breaking hearts in the future, bet on it." 

Sherlock gave a wan smile, not wanting to think about John romancing other people. But he pushed it out of his mind. "Do you know where they went? I'd like to surprise John." _And it definitely would be a surprise, he thought to himself._

"They said they were going to Pink's. Have you ever tried their hot dogs? They're the best!" The woman licked her lips, and Sherlock fought not to laugh. 

"No, but I think I will now. I passed it on my way here. Thank you." He turned and began to head out of the neighborhood, very much wanting to go before this woman started talking his ear off. She seemed nice enough, but Sherlock could tell she was desperate to seek out others to be with, as her husband most definitely tuned her out quite often.

It didn't take long for him to reach Pink's. He secured a seat on a bench across from the restaurant, waiting to see John leave. He had on a baseball cap---something he never wore and wouldn't be caught dead in, but he didn't want to be seen right away. He also traded in his black leather jacket and jeans for khaki shorts and a plaid button-down short-sleeve he swiped from Mycroft. 

He didn't know if his parents were upset over his disappearance but he didn't care. If he wanted to ever have a chance with John, leaving Sherrinford and following him to Los Angeles was the only way. It was a risk he was willing to take. 

*****  
Meanwhile at the Holmes mansion, Veronica and Sidney were in a panic over Sherlock. They hadn't called the police, they were afraid they wouldn't help them after what happened with John. They pleaded with Mycroft, believing he knew something, but their oldest son was in a mood and wouldn't leave his room.

"Sherlock's done this before dear. He'll return home. You know how he gets when he's bored or in a stint," Sidney tried to reassure his wife.

"This is different. He's not back in London. This town is alien to him. But I fear the police won't help us find him. They'll say it's good he's gone. I know we've raised our children to be independent, but it's backfired on us. Especially with Eurus..."

"Hush Veronica. We promised not to speak of it again," Sidney warned.

"What are we going to do?" Veronica fervently whispered. "We've got to get Sherlock back and smooth things over with John and his mother. If they or anyone else in this town find out why we really moved here from England, we're done for!"

"What can they do Veronica? Nothing. It's not their business, and they have no jurisdiction to get involved," Sidney quietly retorted. "Just stay calm, and focus on getting our child back and making sure he stays the straight and narrow. The same for Mycroft."

Veronica slumped down on the sofa. "Sherlock and Mycroft, they can be redeemed, I know they can. It's just out-of-control hormones. But Eurus...she's different and she's going to end up doing the same thing to some poor innocent soul like she did with-"

Sidney cut her off. "Please Veronica, drop it. It's done. There's nothing we can do."

"We can make sure she doesn't hurt someone else. You know what happened to the other one. I'm not going to forget. None of us are..."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sherlock & John's confrontation won't happen just yet. You got to have some delayed gratification once in a while! And Little Miss Psychopath returns next chapter...of course she knows what's going on with her baby brother!


	9. Twilight Time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Mycroft can be a decent human being.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been a crappy couple of weeks in the good ol' USA thanks to a certain orange President who shall not be named. And The Patriots won the Superbowl AGAIN UGH!!! But you're not here to see my rants. Enjoy the latest chapter!

The Holmes mansion on Baker Street was eerily still, except for the ballroom, where the romantic sounds of Clair de Lune were expertly being played on the grand piano that sat by the large panel of windows, orange twilight sun streaming through the glass.

Mycroft stared straight ahead, not even looking at the keys; he had played this piece since he was twelve and it was one of his favorites. The lush notes brought a sense of calmness and peace to his mind, something he desperately needed these last few trying days. Molly Hooper's rejection of him, combined with Sherlock's escapades had him on edge. And now his little brother was gone.

Sherlock had pulled disappearing acts before when someone had yelled at him or he didn't get what he wanted. Generally he ran off to the house of whatever boy he'd been sleeping with at the time, or to London's seedier neighborhoods where eager dealers were waiting to make illicit sales of the pills and cocaine he craved so much. His parents had no idea how to deal with a teenage sex and drug addict, short of threatening to put him in rehab, which they never did, ultimately coming to the conclusion Sherlock sequestered at home (once he decided to return or was found by the police and/or Mycroft) would be better than him locked up in a white room with doctors and therapists obsessing to get him to talk about his feelings, which would cause him to shut down completely.

Today's disappearance was different. Sherlock wasn't in London and as far as Mycroft knew, the only drug he was on now was nicotine. So where would he go? He had familiarized himself with Sherrinford while riding around town but deemed a lot of places boring like he always did. For once, Mycroft's brain was in a fog.

He stopped playing, and stood up, cracking his knuckles and stretching. Perhaps a dip in the pool would clear his mind and get the synapses charged. He began to head for his room to change.

Mycroft was halfway up the stairs when his sister called to him. "Hello brother mine."

He sighed and turned around to face her. She wore a yellow sundress with black sandals, and her dark hair was pulled back in a ponytail. "Not tonight Eurus, I'm in no mood for your machinations." He continued his climb up the stairs.

"Aren't you the least bit concerned about our brother Mycroft?" she asked in a tone that was definitely not concern.

Mycroft stopped but didn't turn back. "Yes, but there's no reason for me to be in a panic. He's done this before, he'll be back."

"Are you sure about that? Do you have any inkling of where he's escaped to?" she pressed.

Mycroft sighed again and glared at his sister. "If I did, I'd simply go and fetch him Eurus."

Eurus smiled knowingly. "I don't think it'll be so easy this time."

Mycroft charged towards her and grabbed her shoulders. "You know where he is. This is no time to be cryptic and obtuse little sister. If you know where Sherlock is, you better spit it out."

"Let go of me Mycroft," she warned.

"This is not a game Eurus!" he hissed. "Spit it out now, or I'll make damn sure you'll never see Jim Moriarty again, and I'll confiscate that bloody beloved switchblade of yours."

Eurus' eyes widened. Mycroft rarely lost his cool. It was actually very nice seeing his mask of strained reserve slip, and if she could she would continue this puzzle, but she knew right now was not a good time for testing limits. Still, she had to enjoy a sliver of this puzzle. "All right brother mine. Sherlock went to the City of Angels to find his own fallen angel."

Mycroft was confused for just a second and then the realization was all over his face. "Oh dear. He's gone to Los Angeles. That's where John Watson went to. But how would he know---bloody hell! He found out John has someone there, a relative." Mycroft shook his head and rubbed his temples furiously. "He must have located their address when he went to John's last night." He scowled at Eurus. "How did you find out?"

Eurus chuckled. "I must admit it I didn't figure it out all my myself. I heard Sherlock muttering about going to Los Angeles to find John while he was in his room packing. I just happened to be in there in the closet listening."

Mycroft groaned and massaged his head. He could feel a headache coming on. "I shouldn't be surprised you were sneaking around in Sherlock's room, but I still need to ask why you were in the closet."

A coy smile played on her lips. "Well, I wasn't meaning to eavesdrop, I was trying on one of his leather jackets. Jim told me I would look sexy in one, and Sherlock's the only one here that wears them. Plus the closet is huge, he'd never notice me. Anyway, I heard him come in and he was prattling on about needing to find John and make things right and how he's the most beautiful being he's ever laid eyes on, that he could be his conductor of light." She rolled her eyes, clearly disgusted at his attempt to do flowery language. "Sherlock's never spewed garbage like that."

"Is there an end to this story?" Mycroft huffed.

"Patience dear brother, patience. So I heard him leave and I walked out, and saw the paper on his bed that had the address of where he's going. From my deduction, it's a sibling and spouse, although the name said Harry and I thought homosexual marriage was illegal---"

"Harry could be a nickname for a female sibling Eurus. Don't get idiotic on me."

Eurus pouted. "Don't make fun of my discovery, if it wasn't for me you'd never known where he went to. So now that we know, do we follow him to Los Angeles? Tell Mummy and Daddy?"

" _I_ will tell Mummy and Daddy. You've all the tact of a bull in a china shop," Mycroft retorted.

Eurus laughed. "Thank for the compliment. Now, I must be off. I promised Jimmy I'd call him. He so loves the sound of my voice." And with that, she flounced away. Mycroft shook his head and pondered how to break the news to their parents that their youngest son had run away to fix the mess he made with John.

******

**Los Angeles**

"Been a while since you've had a real hot dog huh?"

John laughed at his brother-in-law's gentle teasing as he, Clarence, and Harry sat in a booth inside Pink's. "Mrs. Hudson would kill me if she ever found out I prefer a Pink's dog to hers. But her burgers can't be beat so that's something." He happily bit into his chili dog.

Harry was ecstatic to see her little brother enjoying himself, trying to put the memories of the awful weekend back in Sherrinford behind him. She would love for him to move in with her and Clarence permanently, but their mother would be heartbroken, and John wouldn't want to leave his school or friends. She knew he was very popular and well-liked. But being popular and well-liked could sometimes be a curse. John had always attracted unwanted attention from both girls and boys and she knew it was something he didn't care for. He was not big on relationships like a lot of his friends, and didn't care if he wasn't dating. 

"Tomorrow we're going to barbecue. Harry cut up a chicken and I'm making potato salad. You're going to eat good while you're here," Clarence promised.

"Not too much though, I need to be in tip-top shape for football when school starts again," John reminded him.

"We'll make sure you'll keep that Adonis physique of yours Johnny. You and I have a date to surf at the beach tomorrow," Harry said. "Just like when we were younger."

 "I'm looking forward to it." John chomped down on his hot dog again. It felt good knowing his only cares right now were what to eat and where to go. If only he knew just across the street, Sherlock Holmes was waiting to get a glimpse of him.

*****

Sherlock was growing restless and irritable. How long did it take to eat fast food anyway? There was a reason they called it fast food. He huffed and pouted. He was ready to stop his stakeout and go explore the city. 

Then a few minutes later, he saw him, and his heart just about jumped out of his chest. John was laughing and smiling, and he practically glowed under the evening sun. If Sherlock believed in heaven, John Watson would be the embodiment of it. His blond hair was golden and radiant, like an angel's halo. He wore a simple white T-shirt and jean shorts, but on him it was perfect. The white and denim complimented his tan arms and legs. Simply put, he was pure California sunshine, and Sherlock wanted to bask in it.

Sherlock saw a slightly older woman put an arm around him as they walked towards the parking lot; this had to be his sister Harry. She was almost the spitting image of him. Next to her was a tall, handsome skinny man with brown spiky hair and wire-rimmed glasses, this had to be her husband Clarence. He could tell they were happily married and that both were very fond and protective of John. 

He watched the three get into a sporty pale convertible. Harry was in the driver seat, this was her car. John sat in the passenger side, and Clarence hopped into the back, stretching out his long frame by putting both legs up on the seat. The car revved up and drove off, and Sherlock was sorely tempted to follow, but he didn't. He wanted to find John while he was alone and apologize. 

After the three were out of sight, Sherlock got up from the bench, adjusted his ball cap, and set off in the other direction. He wanted to see as much of Los Angeles while he could while the sun was still out.

*****

John was leaning against the kitchen counter, talking to his mother on the phone. "Hey Mom, I'd thought I'd call to let you know I'm okay. Harry, Clarence and I just got back from dinner. I'm going to get a shower, and read for a bit before going to bed. Then tomorrow, Harry and I are heading to the beach to surf. How are you?"

"Missing you like crazy, but I'm relieved to know you're okay. Pete Hooper called me earlier tonight and invited me to join a meeting with the other parents tomorrow night, about the Holmes family."

John felt his stomach knot up. "Mom, did something happen while I've been away?"

 "Sherlock's older brother showed up at Molly's house and she agreed to talk to him, but he made her uncomfortable, so Pete and Sylvia asked him to leave, and he did. Pete's worried that he'll try and hurt Molly like Sherlock did with you. So he organized a meeting. It's going to be talking about how to protect the kids, and Officer Morstan is coming too. "

"Are you going to the meeting?" John asked.

"Do you want me to honey?" his mother asked back.

"Yeah. Maybe it'll help Sherlock and Mycroft leave us alone, especially when school starts. Is Molly okay?"

"She's fine. Pete and Sylvia said Greg took her to go bowling with friends."

"Well that's a relief. You haven't seen Sherlock skulking around since you told him off have you?"

"No, and I hope I never see him again. He's a very odd young man."

John heard voices calling him and he brought the phone away from his ear. "Johnny! We're going to Dairy Queen for ice cream. Wanna come?" he heard Harry say.

"Yeah, give me a minute Sis!" he replied. "Mom, I have to go. Harry wants to go to Dairy Queen."

"Okay honey, have a good time! I'll talk to you later."

"Love you Mom."

"Love you too. Goodnight."

John hung up the phone and went into the living room. "I'm ready!" he sang out.

******

Sidney and Veronica Holmes sat across from Mycroft in the library, slowly taking in all he told them about Sherlock running off to Los Angeles---and that Eurus knew and didn't tell them. Needless to say, they were furious.

"I'm going to murder that child," Veronica seethed. "How could she keep something like this from us? I've been worried sick about Sherlock!"

Mycroft kept silent although he so wanted to tell his mother she should have never indulged his sister. If she had reigned her in earlier and actually showed concern at her actions, they would still be in London and not escaped to here.

Sidney put a comforting arm around his wife. "Well, we now know where he is. We'll just go to Los Angeles and get him."

"But he could be anywhere in that city!" Veronica countered.

"He's sure to be close to where John is staying Mummy. More than likely he's at a nearby hotel. He has the money to pay for a room," Mycroft reassured. We would just check all of them, give a description of Sherlock, find him, and bring him home."

"You make it sound so easy Myc," Veronica sadly replied. 

"It is Mummy. I can go there and locate him."

Veronica vehemently shook her head. "Absolutely not. I already have one child lost there, I'm not losing another." 

"You and I will go to Los Angeles dear," Sidney offered. We'll take a picture of Sherlock with us."

"We could try John's sister and brother-in-law, but I'm sure they would slam the door in our faces and call the police. I just don't know what to do. If Sherlock succeeds in getting to John..." Veronica's voice trailed off as she started to sob. Sidney took her in his arms, rubbing her back and whispering reassuring words of comfort.

Mycroft got up. He had to leave the room. Something had to be done about Sherlock. He knew his own behavior regarding Molly was suspect, but he couldn't see anyone else hurt. He quietly crept to the front doors and walked out towards the green Aston Martin in the driveway. He was soon speeding down Baker Street, and on towards town.

*****

Sylvia Hooper stood at the doorway, a cold glare on her pretty face. "I thought I told you to stay away!"

"Mrs. Hooper, please listen to me. I need you to get a message to John Watson's mother. I don't know where she lives and I'm sure if I went to her house, she wouldn't see me. It's very important. It concerns her son."

"Haven't you and that brother of yours done enough to terrorize our children? John had to leave town because of what he tried to do to him!"

"But that's why I'm here. My brother discovered where John went and left home to find him. So if you don't want John to be assaulted again, you'll help me."

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sherlock and John are my Luke and Laura. Bonus points if you get that reference!


	10. From Here to There to You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wanda Watson and Sidney and Victoria Holmes scramble to Los Angeles to thwart Sherlock from finding John but it's already too late. Mycroft has a minor breakthrough with Molly and Eurus continues to be creepy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for a little slut shaming, because it's the early 1960's.

Tuesday morning arrived with uncomfortable humidity and a gloomy gray sky threatening rain. It was like swimming in a a bowl full of steamy chicken broth just fresh off of the stove.

Wanda Watson was on the road, driving to Harry and Clarence's in Los Angeles, the scenes of last night replaying in her mind...

_She had jumped out of the car, tearing off towards the Hooper residence. Outside on the porch stood her friends Sylvia and Pete Hooper with a tall, dark-haired boy she didn't recognize. All three had deep frowns on their faces._

_"Sylvia, Pete, what's going on with John? Is my baby okay?" she panted as she finally met their gazes. "And who is this?" she asked, gesturing towards the boy._

_"Wanda, this is Mycroft Holmes," Sylvia answered frostily, narrowing her eyes towards the teenager._

_Wanda let out an almost scream. "You're the brother of the pervert that tried to rape my baby!" Mycroft ignored her outburst. He knew she was only filled with concern for her child. Concern...and sentiment._

_She turned back to face the Hoopers. "What's he doing here?"_

_It was Pete who responded. "He came to tell us to call you Wanda. There's no easy way to tell you this, but Sherlock followed John to Los Angeles. Mycroft found out and wanted us to tell you."_

_There was no reply from the worried mother. All she felt was heavy blackness, and she fainted right there on the Hooper's porch. When she came to, she was on their couch in the living room, and Sylvia and Pete were kneeling beside her. A glass of water was on the coffee table beside her._

_"Wanda, are you okay?" Sylvia called to her in concern._

_She grabbed the sides of her head. Her temples throbbed and ached as if someone held them in a vice grip. "Yes, I'm okay, just a headache."_

_"I'll get some asprin," Pete offered, getting up and going into the kitchen._

_Wanda gently looked around, trying not to become dizzy. "Where's that Holmes boy?"_

_"He left after you fainted. He offered help to get you in the house but we told him we were fine so he went home." Sylvia shook her head resignedly. "He's the one that's been bothering Molly."_

_Wanda's mouth dropped open in surprise. "What? I didn't know that. John didn't tell me. You know how stubborn that boy is." Then her blue eyes widened with fright. "John! I've got to go to Los Angeles and warn him about Sherlock..." She attempted to get up, but a wave of vertigo overcame her and she fell back on the couch._

_Sylvia gently grabbed her arms. "Wanda, please, you need to be still and get your bearings." She frowned. "How would this Sherlock know that John went to visit his sister anyway?"_

_Wanda's face was pure ice. "Simple. He must have found it in my Rolodex when he broke into my house Saturday night. He also grabbed my sleeping pills. So not only is he a rapist, he's a druggie. You should have seen him Sylvia. I hate to say this, but he is an impossibly beautiful child. He isn't what most think of a sex-crazed lunatic. But he's so young, and to be doing these awful things---I blame the parents. They obviously have no authority over their children."_

_Pete arrived with a glass of water and two asprin which he handed to Wanda. "Here, take this, you'll feel better..."_

After she left the Hoopers, she called her boss at home and informed them of her situation. Mr. Reichenbach was sympathetic and told her to take all the time she needed. He'd also asked her if she was still interested in the apartment. 

"Absolutely. I think it will be a nice change of pace for John and I." He told her it was hers and it would be ready by the middle of September.

Wanda stuffed some belongings into an overnight bag and was out the door.

*****

Mycroft watched the sleek black car pull out of the massive driveway. With a sigh, he watched his parents leave their home. They were on their way to Los Angeles, after Mycroft had given them the address of where to go. Of course, he'd had to ask Eurus for it, and she wouldn't give it to him without playing her silly mind games, and then when he threatened to tell her new boyfriend Jim Moriarty what she'd done back in England, she relented. Mycroft wasn't afraid of her, not anymore. Eurus knew it too. Deep down, a part of her was terrified to cross her brother. He knew which buttons to press.

Mycroft closed the doors and leaned against them, closing his eyes, as if he was trying to shut off the rest of the world. 

"Sir, breakfast is ready," Anthea's voice called from beside him. Mycroft opened up his eyes and smiled grimly. "Thank you Anthea, but I'm not very hungry right now."

"Yes sir," she replied, and she was off to attend to her morning duties. Mycroft was grateful Anthea had agreed to come with them to California. She was one of the most efficient housekeepers the family ever had. 

He decided to go to the ballroom and play the piano since the weather was too dreary for a dip in the pool. Striking those ivory and ebony keys always soothed his mind and his mood. 

*****

Eurus was in the kitchen, happily munching on an English muffin, leaning against the countertop as she talked into the phone. "Hi Jimmy. My parents are gone, they went to Los Angeles to chase after Sherlock....my brother is obsessed with that _goldfish_ and he has to have him...my other brother? I don't know where Mycroft is, he's probably skulking around brooding somewhere. Yes, I want you here. Can you come over? Two hours? Wonderful. I'll see you soon...I can't wait. I have so many games and treats planned for us."

She hung up the phone and smirked. With her parents and Sherlock away and Mycroft god knows where, she was going to play. The fun was only just beginning.

*****

**Los Angeles**

Unlike Sherrinford, the weather there was warm and sunny, and the skies were a brilliant azure blue, with no clouds in sight. John and Harry were at the beach, waxing their surfboards in their spot on the sand. There were a few people out enjoying the ocean breeze and the surf, but it was still morning.  

Three teenage girls walked by, taking time to ogle John. He heard their giggles and looked up. One of them, a petite blonde, grinned at him. "You're cute," she said admiringly. "I've never seen you here before." The other two looked at each other and snickered at their friend's attempt at flirting.

"I'm visiting my sister," John replied. "I used to live here."

"Maybe I'll see you around then. My name's Mandy Elliott."

"John Watson."

"Nice to meet you John. Bye!" Mandy winked and giggled at him, and her friends began to drag her down the beach. John watched them, obviously talking about him. Harry just laughed and shook her head. "I can't take you anywhere without you attracting someone. First it was the waitress last night at Pink's, and now that giggling girl."

"Hey, don't forget that hot rodder at Dairy Queen last night. He wasn't bad looking, and he had a cool car."

"He was also twenty-four years old John. Even after I told him you were only sixteen, he still tried to give you his number." 

"Yeah, he was pretty persistent. Good thing his mom came by and made him go home!" The siblings broke out into a fit of laughter. It felt so good to just laugh and not have any worries, and John was intent on having a good time today.

He wouldn't think to know that sitting on a boardwalk bench directly across from where and Harry stood, was Sherlock with a stare so intense and blazing, like a rival to the bright, burning California sunshine.

*****

Mycroft wasn't a fool. He knew the sounds of sex when he heard them, which was entirely too much thanks to Sherlock and his escapades. Now those sounds were coming from his fifteen year-old sister. He wasn't surprised.

He stood on the landing, contemplating. Sod it, he was going to the pool. It wasn't raining and the radio said it wouldn't get here until early evening. Ignoring the moans and groans from his sister's room, he headed for his to get his swim trunks. 

The phone in the hallway rang, and Mycroft answered it. He didn't need the servants for that. "Hello, Holmes residence."

"Mycroft, is that you?"

It was if time stood still once he heard the voice on the other end. He couldn't even hear his sister carrying on. Nothing else mattered, only that sweet voice saying his name.

"Hi Molly."

"I, uh got your number from the operator. I wanted to thank you."

Mycroft's brain slipped into a fog, which was something that never happened. He couldn't even register why Molly was calling since she'd made it perfectly clear she didn't want him anywhere near her.

"Thank me? For what?"

"For telling my parents to tell John's mom about your brother. I know it must have been hard for you, he is your flesh and blood."

Mycroft's brain was now as clear as day and his composure returned. "I did what I had to do. John doesn't deserve the violent attentions of my brother...just as you don't deserve my unwanted attention. I'm deeply sorry Molly."

There was a moment of silence before Molly answered. "I accept your apology. It's just that I've never been used to attention of any kind from a boy. I'm pretty much invisible."

"Well then, those boys really don't know much do they? I can see how special you are."

Molly cleared her throat. "Thank you. Uh, I have to go. Goodbye Mycroft---"

"Wait Molly. Do you think you would be comfortable coming over to my house for a visit?" The question tumbled out of Mycroft's mouth before he realized what he'd said.

"I, um...not at this time. I hope that's okay," she said softly, almost ashamed to be turning him down.

"It's fine Molly. I understand."

"Thank you. I'll talk to you later?" she replied, a little hesitantly.

"I'd like that. Goodbye Molly."

He heard the click and he hung up the phone. Taking a deep breath, he pinched the bridge of his nose and exhaled slowly. Maybe this was a sign, he thought. Maybe Molly could warm up to him, and he could show Sherlock and Eurus there could be a normal relationship in this family. 

Just then, his sister's bedroom door opened. She stood in the doorway, smiling like the cat caught the canary, wearing only a white slip. Her dark hair was mussed and she had a look on her face of pure debauchery. "Hello, brother mine," she purred.

"Done with your fun Eurus?" Mycroft asked coldly.

"The fun's just beginning," she replied with a wink. "Did you like my moaning? It's going to come in handy when Jimmy comes over and the real sex takes place."

Mycroft groaned and rubbed his forehead furiously. "You mean to tell me that you were faking those awful sounds the entire time?"

"Of course not? I was practicing on myself." She shook out her thick hair and grinned. "I do that quite a bit you know."

"No, I don't want to know. I'd rather have my sister be a psychopath than a whore," he shot back.

Eurus was unfazed at her brother's insult. "I'd thought you'd be a little more liberated big brother. You seem to have no problem with Sherlock being a male slut."

"I don't like what he does either, but you must realize he is cut more slack when it comes to his sexual exploits. Since we're in America now, they are much more puritanical in their thinking when it comes to females and sexuality. I'm only looking out for your welfare."

"Point taken," Eurus calmly responded. "It still won't stop me from being with Jimmy, and he's due here soon. You may want to find somewhere else to be."

All Mycroft could do was huff loudly and rush to his room. The pool was looking better and better, and even if he had to swim in the rain, he would. At that moment, he even wished he was in Los Angeles with Sherlock. 

*****

 John felt someone was watching him. It started after the teenage girls approached him. He was preparing his surfboard, getting ready to go into the ocean when he felt the hairs stand up on the back of the neck, and a prickly feeling enveloped his body. He shook it off and ran towards the shore, board in hand, jumping into the cool, refreshing water. He and Harry had a blast riding their boards and catching waves. The spooky feeling soon dissolved and his only thought was sun, sand, and surf.

As afternoon approached, he and Harry dried off and headed for the boardwalk to get lunch. They found a pizza parlor with picnic tables and umbrellas with a view of the beach. As they sat and ate, the spooky feeling returned and John began looking around.

"John, what's wrong?" his sister asked.

"I feel like someone's watching me. I felt that way before we went surfing, and now it's back."

Harry also glanced around. "I don't see anyone suspicious looking."

John sat back in his chair and sighed. "I'm sorry, I'm a little off the chain, after what happened with Sherlock."

Harry reached across the table and patted John's hand affectionately. "Don't be sorry John. Anyone would be rattled after what happened to you. But you're here and he isn't. You're safe."

John nodded, trying to reassure himself. "You're right. So let's enjoy the rest of this beautiful summer day."

As the two continued their lunch, Sherlock continued to gaze at John, this time standing against the wall of a public restroom. The desire to confront and talk to him was growing more and more, and it wouldn't be long before push came to shove. He had to be alone with John, or this trip would be for naught.

*****

Clarence drove down the street towards his house with Wanda sitting next to him. He was shocked when he saw his mother-in-law pull into his garage and breathlessly told him Sherlock had followed John to LA. Immediately, he handed the reigns over to his co-worker and left for home. 

"We'll call the police from there," he told her. "Luckily Harry took John to the beach and I don't expect them home until sometime this evening."

Wanda was extremely relieved to hear John was with his sister, and safe. 

As they approached the cozy one-story home, both saw a fancy black car on the side of the street. Wanda quickly felt dread spread over her. "I don't like the look of this."

Clarence narrowed his brown eyes and pursed his lips. "Me neither. Wait right here." He stopped the car and got out, slowly walking towards the black car. The driver side door opened, and a man dressed in a sleek black suit, white shirt and black tie got out. He went to the back door on his side, and opened it. Clarence watched as a distinguished older gentleman rose. He walked around to the other side and opened that door. A pretty dark-haired woman appeared. The man held out his hand and helped her out. She smoothed down her sheath dress, Clarence noted how expensive it looked. 

_What the hell was going on?_ he thought. _Who are these people and why are they in front of my house?_

Wanda rushed to her son-in-law's side. "It's them Clarence. Those are Sherlock's parents. Why are they here?"

"I don't know, but we're going to find out." He marched over to Sidney and Veronica Holmes, with Wanda behind him. "May I  help you?" he crisply asked.

The couple sharply turned towards Clarence. "Yes, we're looking for Harry and Clarence Winstead."

"I'm Clarence Winstead."

"Mr. Winstead, my name is---"

"I know who are you are. And if you know what's good for you, you'll find that son of yours and go back to where you came from."

Sidney and Veronica were somewhat taken aback at Clarence's anger, but Wanda stepped in front of him. "Mr. & Mrs. Holmes, I don't know how you got my daughter and son-in-law's address, but I think we should go inside and discuss this situation privately. Clarence, it's okay. If they're here to find Sherlock and take him home, then we're all on the same page." She turned to her son-in-law. "Clarence?"

He sighed and nodded. "Yes, I agree. I'm sorry, but you'll understand this has been a few difficult days for our family."

"Yes, I understand. Thank you for being so hospitable," Sidney replied with contrition.

Clarence took the lead and led everyone into his home. Now he had to tell Harry...and John. This was not going to end well.

*****

John was exploring the sand dunes. Harry had run into a friend of Clarence's and the two were on the beach talking. He was far away from the crowds, and he was taking in the calm and serene scene before him. He could hear the gentle crashing of waves, and every now and then a seagull cried out in the distance.

John saw a conch shell half buried in the sand. He bent down to collect it, brushing salt and grain away from it's pearly surface. He put it up to his ear and grinned. As a child, he always loved hearing the sound of the ocean floor inside them. 

He decided to take the shell home as a souvenir. Then that awful feeling returned. The feeling of being watched.

John stood perfectly still, trying to suppress a shudder. He was afraid to turn around. But then he told himself to stop being scared. If push came to shove and someone was there with him, he could use the shell as a weapon. So he turned around.

He saw Sherlock standing there. The shell fell back into the sand. Deep down John knew it had been him that was watching him, stalking him at the beach. He didn't want to know how Sherlock discovered he was here. Some things were better not being known.

_Run,_ his brain screamed at him. _Run and get help. What are you waiting for John, move!_

He couldn't. It was like his legs were firmly implanted in the sand. He was paralyzed with a mixture of fear...and anticipation.

He bore his blue eyes into Sherlock's silver-aqua ones. Gone was the posturing, the lust, the arrogance. John only saw sorrow and longing in them. 

"John," Sherlock said softly.

He stayed silent.

"John, I'm sorry for hurting you. I was overwhelmed with all these feelings, and I don't know what came over me. Please forgive me."

John closed his eyes, trying to drown out that gorgeous baritone. It was a siren's call, and he knew the legends of the sirens. _Don't give in,_ his mind warned. _Or you'll be pulled under._

"John, please," Sherlock pleaded.

"No." He wanted to sound forceful but it came out as a soft whine.

He opened his eyes and he saw Sherlock reach out with his long, graceful arm and lovingly caress his cheek. He shuddered at the touch. Before he knew it, those elegant limbs were embracing him, warm breath ghosting on his ear. "I'm sorry," Sherlock whispered. 

John felt like he had no control over his body. A phantom force was compelling him, possessing him to wrap his arms around Sherlock's waist, holding him in tightly. The same force propelled him to lift his head, eyes meeting Sherlock's. The taller boy softly smiled and bent down, lips meeting John's. 

That force continued to keep John still, allowing the kiss and before he knew it, he was kissing him back. _What are you doing, his mind scolded. Stop and get away from him, before things get out of control. This boy tried to attack you just three days ago._

But John didn't move. Not until a strong ocean breeze sliced through the dunes and startled Sherlock enough to break off the kiss. John finally took a step back and gazed up at the other boy. His eyes had turned a darker shade of blue, and his face had deepened into a pretty shade of peach. Sherlock had a dreamy expression on his face and reached out to tenderly stroke John's cheek again. "There's something special about you John. I think you can keep me right. Can we start over again?"

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...and we have the kiss. Will John give into Sherlock?


	11. Surrender

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John deals with the ramifications of his kiss with Sherlock. Back in Sherrinford, the parents have their meeting, Eurus and Jim get together in the biblical sense (no smut since I can't write it for crap), and a revelation about the Holmes family comes out during a heated argument.

John stood there, his dark blue eyes fixed on Sherlock's, absorbing everything that just happened between them. Sherlock's whispers of sorry, his warm embrace, the kiss that tasted like sea salt and sunshine...

Suddenly his mind became clear, as if thick clouds had parted away from the sun, allowing its rays to shine through the sky. He knew what he had to do.

"No," he said, this time firm and strong. "We can't do this. _I_ can't do this. You need to go back to Sherrinford and forget everything that just happened."

Sherlock vehemently shook his head. "I don't want to forget. I know we can be together, if you give us a second chance."

"I'm serious Sherlock. Do you really think I would be with you after what you tried to do me a few days ago? I left town to get away from you. How would it look if I decided that it would be a good idea to date the boy who almost raped me?" He clenched his fists and glared at Sherlock.

"I wasn't in my right mind, but I am now John. I'm sorry. You know that. And you're attracted to me. You let me hold and kiss you."

"It was a lapse in judgment. I won't make that mistake again."

"John..." Sherlock reached out for him but John stepped back. "No Sherlock. Just leave me alone. Don't try to come after me, I mean it." And with that, he ran past him, away from the dunes, and back to the safety of his sister, who was still chatting happily away with her friend. Upon seeing him, she grew worried. "John, what's wrong?"

"I'm okay Harry, I got spooked again. I thought someone was following me, and it was just a seagull. I think I'll take a walk along the shore." He gave a courteous smile to Harry's friend and walked away.

Harry knew it wasn't a seagull that scared John. He was genuinely shaken up by something---or someone. Then she tensed. _No, There's no way that Sherlock could have followed him, he doesn't know where we live, unless..._

Harry turned to her friend. "I'm sorry Sue, but something's come up, and I need to leave for a little while."

Sue nodded sympathetically."Does it have to do with all that trouble with your brother and that other boy you were telling me about?"

"Yes. Can you keep an eye on John for me? I'm going to the dunes." 

*****

 Back at Harry and Clarence's house, Clarence, Wanda Watson, and Sidney and Veronica Holmes were sitting outside on the small patio in back, discussing the situation between John and Sherlock. There was a lot of heated arguing, but they all came to an agreement that the police would not be involved unless Sherlock actually made contact with John and tried to attack him again. Mr. & Mrs. Holmes would take Sherlock back to Sherrinford as soon as they found him. But concerns still lingered.

"I understand Sherlock will be attending Culverton," Wanda said with some apprehension.

"Yes," Veronica replied. "Sidney and I wanted to put the children in Cumberbatch Academy but they insisted on attending public school, especially Sherlock and Eurus. I think the environment will be good for them. Maybe it'll make them normal." She lowered her eyes, and Sidney put her arm around her. 

Wanda couldn't help but feel a bit sorry for the two. She knew coming to America from England was a culture shock, but it still didn't excuse the children from acting the way they had.

"I hope things will be better from now on. I can't keep John from missing school to avoid Sherlock and they're bound to have classes together---I just hope your son will respect my son's boundaries," Wanda said firmly.

"We'll talk to Sherlock. We'll talk to all of our children," Sidney promised.

"Well then, I think we're done. The most important thing now is for you to find your son. He may be staying at The Del Sol Hotel, which is right down the road from us. The clerk isn't picky about who he rents to, so I'm sure a teenage boy wouldn't faze him. I can give you directions," Clarence said.

Mr. & Mrs. Holmes stood up. "Thank you. We'll go there now."

Wanda nodded to the three and went into the house. She was exhausted and anxious and just wanted to hold her son. She started counting down the hours until Harry and John would be back from the beach.

*****

Harry saw a tall, thin young man with a mop of dark curls and off-kilter, but extremely handsome features sitting in the sand, holding a conch shell and turning it over and over with his hands. His lips were set in a pensive frown. 

This had to be Sherlock, John had described him to her. However, all the other times he encountered him, he was dressed in greaser attire and his hair was slicked back. In his black swim trunks and white short-sleeved shirt, unbuttoned to show off a very pale, milky chest, he looked more like a posh vacationer from one of the northern states and not a sex-crazed biker. Harry knew appearances could be deceiving.

When she trekked to the dunes, she was all set on confronting Sherlock and warning him to stay away from her baby brother. Now, she was hesitant. John wouldn't like her trying to save him as he if was a damsel in distress. John preferred to slay his own dragons. She knew he would be upset, and she didn't want to ruin their relationship. When she was drinking, things were strained between them, but after she sobered up and got married, they were close again. She couldn't lose her brother again.

Sighing to herself, she chose to leave Sherlock sitting in the sand. He looked contrite and sorrowful. Maybe he was sorry for his actions, and had apologized to John. She hoped---no, she _prayed_ that was the case.

*****

Eurus' Holmes bedroom was a stark contrast to the girl herself. You would never think someone so cold, so analytical, so psychopathic would have a room where stuffed animals sat on top of shelves, frilly white curtains hung delicately from windows, a pink princess phone was proudly displayed on a bedside table, and a light pink comforter with matching pillows were spread over a white canopy bed with sheer pink curtains attached. It was really for her mother's benefit, at least one thing had to appear ordinary about her, so she chose to make her room into the stereotypical teenage girl's refuge.

The record player though, was not for her mother's benefit. Eurus loved rock music, as did Sherlock. Mycroft, square that he was, preferred classical and jazz. It really wasn't so much the lyrics---mostly sentimental clap trap, but she loved the sound of guitars and drums and how it made her feel inside. She would move and sway to the beat, and her dancing caught the attention of many a boy back in England. Despite her age, Eurus had a more mature look. She was slightly curvy, and her breasts were a little bigger than most girls. Her mother told her when she was born she was the spitting image of her great-grandmother Christabel, who had tragically died in her thirties. So Veronica had chosen Christabel as her middle name. Christ's beauty it meant. Eurus was a beauty but she didn't believe in Christ. Neither did anyone else in the family. Belief in higher powers were for goldfish, but that didn't stop Sherlock from yelling "oh God!" during his trysts with those boys back home.

Now here she was, in her bedroom, swaying to Paul Anka's "Put Your Head on My Shoulder", with her arms possessively wrapped around Jim Moriarty. The two said nothing as they moved to the rhythm. They didn't have to. Paul was singing for them.

The song ended, and Eurus smiled seductively at her boyfriend. "Let me go put on another record and we can continue our dancing. I'm enjoying being alone with you Jimmy."

Jim watched wide-eyed with arousal as Eurus, still in her slinky white slip dress, sashayed over to her record player. It was hard to believe she was only fifteen. She was a twenty-five year old sexpot trapped in a young girl's body, and Jimmy was certain the day would end with the two of them in bed together. Eurus had been hinting at wanting to sleep with him the day they went to the old Belgrave mansion and necked like crazy, and Jim, who had never really dated anyone steadily, wasn't sure if he should get mixed up with a girl younger than him when this time next year, he would be getting ready to head off to college. But this didn't have to be permanent. He could handle a fling, and Eurus didn't seem like the type to settle down, not with her crazy personality.

The familiar croon of Elvis Presley soon filled the air. As he asked "Are You Lonesome Tonight," Eurus returned to Jim, embracing him and planting a gentle kiss on his lips. "I really like you Jimmy. Will you take me to bed?"

He froze, and she chuckled. "There's nothing to be worried about. My parents won't care. They'll probably be thrilled I found someone to be with in a normal teenage relationship."

"There's nothing normal about you doll," Jim murmured. "That's why I like you. But you're just fifteen."

"And you're seventeen, so you won't go to jail. You're not an adult yet."

"I will be in November, and I won't even be here. I'll be away at school."

"November is a long way away Jimmy. We have today, all of September, and all of October for this. Two and a half months of pleasure. Don't deny yourself." She kissed him again, this time a little rougher. "I want it to be you. No one else is worthy of taking my virginity."

Jim's mind was a maelstrom of emotions. Lust, longing, apprehension, doubt. But if he didn't act, then someone else would be in his place, someone who didn't understand Eurus' motivations---or appreciated them. And November was a long way away. Screw it, he thought. He had spent seventeen years of being the straight-laced boy, keeping that dark side he always knew he had within him just bubbling at the surface. It was time for it to boil over. He could deal with the complications later.

Jim lustily pressed his lips to hers, arms tightly coiled around her waist. She was returning his affections just as heatedly. After a few moments, she smirked at him and pulled the straps of her slip off her shoulders, letting it slowly and sexily fall off her body. Jim could only gawk as the blood rushed to his head and below his waist. She took his hand and led him to the bed. "Come on Jimmy, I need you. We need each other. No regrets, no worries, just you and me and the falling rain." 

"Yes, Jim whispered, _yes_." He pushed her back on the bed, quickly stripped out his T-shirt, jeans and boots, and got on top of her. She hummed and wrapped her pale, smooth legs around her, hands digging into his back. "Kiss me," she softly commanded.

Jim obeyed, covering her mouth was his. There was no turning back now. He was going to surrender, and boy did it feel good.

*****

The rain fell harder as a group of adults entered into a large room inside Charlie Magnussen's office building. Sylvia and Pete Hooper were there, as well as Addie and George Dimmock, Susan Powers, Barbara and Keith Hawkins, Mike Stamford Senior and his wife Linda, Officer Dave Morstan and Rose Morstan, Big Seb Moran and his wife Frances, affectionately called "Fanny", and the Lestrades, Robert and Shirley.

Charlie Magnussen stood up front. He was a tall man with platinum blond hair and icy blue eyes hidden behind glasses. He looked cold and imposing but was actually one of the nicest men you'd ever meet. Pete Hooper had asked him to guide the meeting and he agreed.

Once everyone was settled into seats, he began. "Good evening everyone. So let's get started. I think this is all that's coming tonight. Several other parents expressed interest, but couldn't make it to due to work or family commitments, and my wife is home taking care of two sick kiddos."

He cleared his throat and continued. "After some disturbing incidents involving the Holmes children, Pete wanted to get some parents together to talk about protecting our own kids. We have Officer Morstan here representing the police in case you have questions regarding law enforcement matters."

Pete stood up. "Charlie, if I may, something else happened last night regarding Wanda's boy John. I don't know if any of you know, but John is with his sister in Los Angeles after Sherlock Holmes attacked him, and the kid actually followed him there."

Gasps and murmurs could be heard throughout the room.

"Is that why Wanda isn't here?" Addie Dimmock asked.

Pete nodded. "She went to LA to try and intercept Sherlock---as did Sherlock's parents."

"So they're actually stepping up and being parents," Keith Hawkins retorted. "It's about time. They had my Janine spooked something awful. She's having a slumber party this weekend and I don't want those freaks anywhere near it."

"Why isn't Sherlock Holmes in jail?" Fanny Moran asked Dave Morstan pointedly. Other parents wordlessly agreed with her.

"Well, he was Saturday night into Sunday morning. His parents wanted him there. But John wouldn't press charges, so we couldn't keep him locked up," he explained.

"I can't believe John wouldn't press charges," Susan Powers spoke.

Pete shifted in his seat towards her to answer. "If you knew John as good as Sylvia and I do Susan, you'd believe it. He's had to grow up fast since his father died, he's supporting his mom financially, he's pretty much had to be the man of the house. He feels he can handle things on his own. And with what happened last year with the Wilkes boy---he's embarrassed that he's attracting unwanted attention, especially from other teenage boys. However, with Sherlock actually stalking him, he'll probably change his mind and will press charges. But that's on him. So far, he's the only one Sherlock has gone after."

"You hope he'll be the only one," Susan responded matter-of-fact.

"I want to make it clear to everyone in this room that if any of your children feel threatened or are harassed, not just by the Holmes siblings, but by anyone, call us. Please don't take it upon yourselves to play vigilante, or you'll be the one in jail. Unfortunately we have no laws against stalking. Convince your children to trust us and report the behavior," Dave insisted.

Just then, Martha Hudson entered the room. "I'm sorry I'm late!" she said, untying her rain bonnet and shaking it out. "Molly Hooper told me there was a meeting about those awful Holmes brats, and I wanted to come and show my support, especially since Molly and John work for me and they're the ones being bothered."

"Oh Mrs. Hudson, thank you for coming, it's appreciated," Sylvia warmly told her.

She smiled."I wanted to let you all know I've barred the Holmeses from The Big H. If any of them show up on my property. I'll call the police," she promised. "You've all been so nice to me, especially knowing what I've been through back in Florida, and I have to return the favor." 

"Mrs. Hudson, you've been such an asset to the town and we're glad you're here," Charlie praised. "It's always good to have our businesses support the town and its citizens."

Everyone nodded, and Mrs. Hudson slid into an empty chair next to Sylvia. She patted her knee and Sylvia smiled at her daughter's boss.

"Well, is there anything else anyone wanted to address?" Charlie Magnussen asked. "I did want to mention the back-to-school sock hop Marcus and Judy Reichenbach are putting on at the community center the Saturday before Labor Day. They are looking for chaperones, and I think with everything that's happened the last few days, it would be a good idea if we got some parents to volunteer to keep an eye out on the kids. We can't ban the Holmes children if they want to attend, but we can make sure they behave themselves. My wife and I are volunteering."

"Unfortunately, Dave has to work all weekend but I'll do it," Rose Morstan offered.

"So will I," Shirley Lestrade piped up."

"I'll be there too, I love a good sock hop," Mrs. Hudson said, patting her blonde bob. 

Pete and Sylvia also agreed to be chaperones as well.

"Wonderful. I'll let Marcus and Judy know. This should be our most successful sock hop ever." Charlie smiled at his friends. "I think we can declare this meeting over. Perhaps we can do this again. Now let's go home, and stay dry everyone!"

As everyone left and headed for home in the rain, a lone figure watched them from across the street in a dark alley with intense hatred. _Hypocrites_ , all of them, the person thought. _Well, they'll soon start to pay._

*****

Jim tenderly stroked Eurus' cheek as she slept. He got out of bed and got dressed. He didn't want to do a "fuck and run" as Sebastian Wilkes called it, but he wanted to get home before his parents did.

After putting on his boots, he went to his girlfriend and bent down, kissing her gently on the forehead. "I don't want to leave, but I have to. I'll come over tomorrow if you want. Goodnight."

She opened her eyes when she saw Jim, she broke out into a sleepy grin. "Don't go," she murmured, holding out her arms. "Stay with me."

"I'd love to doll, but I can't stay overnight. Not yet anyway. I'll come back tomorrow." He kissed her again.

She sat up, exposing her breasts and smirked. Jim really fought the urge to caress them, but he stood his ground. "Don't tempt me like that."

"You just remember these are waiting for you, along with the rest of me," she teased.

"I won't ever forget." Jim gave her another kiss. "I'll call you in the morning. Goodnight sweetheart."

"Goodnight my Jimmy." She blew him a kiss as she watched him leave. After he closed the door, she giggled and leaned back in bed, taking a sniff. The sheets smelled like sweat and Jim's cologne. She hummed and rolled to the side, grabbing the pillow Jim laid on. "I bet Sherlock hasn't even gotten this far with John," she arrogantly told herself. 

*****

Mycroft caught Jim at the front door. "Do you know what you're getting into sleeping with my sister?" he asked in a warning tone. "She's not what you think she is. Don't continue to get involved."

Jim shrugged off the warning. "Look, just because you can't get into Molly Hooper's pants doesn't mean you can stop Eurus and I from being together. Maybe if she had a normal relationship with a guy that likes her she'd be okay."

Mycroft ignored the insult. I'm not doing this because you think I'm jealous. I'm doing it to save your life. If you only knew why we left England, you would run. Run away from this house and never look back. You seem to be a very intelligent person Jim, don't ruin your life by feeling sentiment for my sister. "

"I really don't care Mikey boy," Jim replied dismissively. "Get used to my face, you're going to be seeing a lot of it. Ta-ta for now!" he sung, opening the door and leaving.

Mycroft stood there and scowled. "Fool," he hissed. "You'll end up in the bottom of the pool just like---"

"Trying to scare my Jimmy away brother mine?" Eurus' voice frostily rang from behind. 

Mycroft pursed his lips and went to face her. "I was only doing him a favor. The last thing we need is another life gone because of your obsessions."

"I'm not going to hurt him. He's the first person that hasn't treated me like a freak. You're not going to ruin this for me, or you'll end up like---"

"Like whom sister mine? Like Sheridan?" Mycroft smiled knowingly at her. "You don't frighten me. Unlike our dear departed sibling, I'm not afraid to speak up and tell Mummy and Father what a lunatic you really are. One day, they will take my advice and have you committed. Why they didn't do it months ago I'll never know. Perhaps they were hanging on, holding out hope that their only daughter would show some resemblance of a human being."

"Don't push me," Eurus growled.

"Then don't threaten me," Mycroft growled back. "You can't intimidate me like you did Sheridan. What you did to him...it's the reason why Sherlock is the way he is. He was Sherlock's twin for God sakes! It's why Mummy and Father don't bother being parents most of the time. You're a lost cause. It should have been you sunken at the bottom of the pool and not him!" he spat.

"No way Mycroft. You're not going to blame Sherlock's promiscuity or our parents being absent on me. They make their own choices," Eurus shot back.

"Just like you made the choice to murder our brother. Yes, your choice caused our family to fall apart. And after all of this, I still care about you. I shouldn't, but I do, even though I keep telling myself caring is not an advantage." Mycroft placed his head in his hands. This was not the time to cry and show weakness. Eurus would mock him and never let it go.

"If you care about me, then you won't stop me from being with Jimmy. Let me live my life as I see fit. Sheridan tried to control me, and you see where it got him." 

Mycroft couldn't take this conversation anymore. "I'm going to the ballroom. You do whatever the hell you want. I'm done tonight." 

Eurus watched him walk away, and a faint smile appeared on her lips. "Goodnight brother mine."

*****

John lie awake in his bed, sleep refusing to come as he replayed the day's events in his mind. His kiss with Sherlock, Harry's admission that she went to the dunes and saw him but didn't confront him (and he was grateful for that), finding his mother here, worried to death that Sherlock had gotten a hold of him and dragged him off to do unspeakable things, and being told Sherlock's parents were in town trying to find their son. It was all too much to bear, and he felt if he just dug himself a hole and stay there, hibernating like a bear and not coming out until next spring, things would be a whole lot better. 

His bedroom window was open, and every so often a night breeze would waft through, cooling the air down. _Maybe if I just got outside and took in some fresh air, it would calm me down and I can get some sleep._

He got out of bed, making sure not to wake his mom (who was sleeping on the couch), Harry, and Clarence. He retrieved his shirt and shorts that sat in the small rocking chair in the corner, and slipped it on. He crawled out of the window and cool dry grass met his bare feet. He squished his toes around for a few seconds before heading to the palm tree planted at the edge of the small backyard. He sat down underneath and peered up towards the heavens. The moon was full and bright against the midnight blue sky.

He placed his hands behind his head and leaned up against the tree trunk. _I probably can fall asleep out here, and it wouldn't be so bad. It's a lot cooler._ He closed his eyes.

*****

John slowly opened his eyes. He felt a presence beside him. Thinking it was his sister, he turned to his left side---and saw a dozing Sherlock. John stifled a cry. If he tried to get up and go back inside the house, Sherlock would be sure to follow him.

So he threw caution to the wind and decided to wake him up. "Sherlock," he whispered fiercely. "Sherlock wake up!"

He heard mumbling and grumbling, and soon the other boy was awake. "What's going on?" He rubbed his eyes. Then he turned and looked at John. "Hey," he said sleepily.

"What are you doing here? Do you know your parents are in town and looking for you. They want to take you back home!" John hissed.

"Yes, I know. I saw them at the motel where I've been staying. I managed to dodge them."

"Sherlock, this is crazy! You've got to go back to Sherrinford! If my mom wakes up and finds you, your ass is going to get thrown back in jail!"

"Then come with me," Sherlock said, moving closer. "We can go back to the beach, to the dunes. You know what happened between us this afternoon was magical."

John scrambled back away from the tree. "No way! I'd be crazy to be alone with you, after what you tried to do to me!"

"I'm sorry I tried to hurt you, and I won't anymore, I promise. Just come with me and I'll make it up to you...I want to be with you John. More than you know."

Sherlock was close, so close to John that he could hear his heart beat and feel his breath, which smelled like cotton candy and mint. Once again, Sherlock's lips were on John's, and he made no move to push him away. He could feel himself being pushed back on to the grass and the blades tickled his legs.

Unlike Saturday night when Sherlock had him on the floor, he was gentle and tender. Sherlock moved his mouth to John's neck and peppered his golden skin with soft kisses and flicks of his tongue. After a bout of affection, Sherlock broke to gaze at John and he smiled. "You're beautiful."

"Flattery will get you nowhere Mr. Holmes," John teased. _Oh shit, I can't believe I said that. Now I'm flirting with him. John what is wrong with you?_

Sherlock chuckled darkly. "If I try often enough, I think I could get somewhere." He kissed John again. "Come with me," he asked a second time, his tone even lower than usual, and rough with want.

John could feel his resolve slipping away. He was going to heed the siren's call, knowing the consequences. _Mom will ground me for the rest of my life. I could lose the relationship I have with Harry. Clarence probably won't talk to me again, as will Molly and all my friends back home. I'd be a hypocrite, because I fought Sebastian, but not Sherlock. I'd be running off with a would-be rapist. But damn that voice, it's pure sex. I'll give him tonight, but after that, we can't be together._

"Okay," he replied, voice cracking. "But just for tonight."

Sherlock smiled and placed those perfect lips over John's right ear. He pressed a warm kiss to his lobe and whispered "then I'm going to make tonight last forever."

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yep, I'm bringing a serial killer to Sherrinford! Start your guesses as to who will be the murderer and who will be the victims. We know the culprit isn't anyone at the meeting, so that rules out a lot of people. And it's not Sheridan Holmes either. Sherlock's twin will stay dead and buried.


	12. I Fall To Pieces

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John is confused by his feelings; Sherlock copes the only way he knows how, and an unknown psychopath begins to hatch a deadly plot.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for the support and comments...keep them coming! And if anyone wants to do some complimentary artwork for the story I'd love to post it here!

John found himself being pulled by Sherlock through his backyard to a destination unknown. He decided just seconds earlier to be with the taller boy for just tonight, and then he would forget him and go on with his life. Then he realized how much he was jeopardizing with this rash decision---the relationships with his family and his friends. They would be hurt and devastated that he chose to run off with his would-be rapist than stay safe with his loved ones.

He decided to make another rash decision. "Stop Sherlock," he commanded.

Sherlock turned to face him, still holding his hand, and he was frowning. "Don't tell me you've changed your mind. You promised me we'd be together tonight.

"I can't do it."

"You promised John." His silver-blue eyes were flashing in frustration.

John freed himself from Sherlock's grasp. "I know, but then I realized how much I'd be losing if I did run off with you. My family would be angry with me, my friends would be upset. Mrs. Hudson banned you from my job---if she found out I was with you, she might fire me. I need my job. I'm sorry Sherlock, but I can't. You have to understand." John looked down at the ground.

Sherlock wanted nothing more than to drag John off so it would be just the two of them, alone against the world. He could convince him that he wouldn't hurt him anymore and how much he wanted him. But if John's family found out, he'd be in even more trouble, and he didn't want that for John.

"Okay John. I understand. I don't like it, but I don't want you to be estranged from your family and friends. I'll go, but you better realize I'm not going to give up. I'm going to prove how right we are for each other." He peered at John with his familiar intense gaze.

John breathed a sigh of relief. "Thank you. I know that was hard for you. But trust me, it'll be better this way."

A loud clap of thunder tore through the night air, and John smiled. "I think that's a sign. I'm heading back inside. Do you have someplace to go?"

"Yes. I'm at the Del Sol Motel. It's a dive, but it's shelter." Sherlock grinned deviously. "If you ever change your mind, you know where to find me..."

"I won't. Now go, before someone catches us, and you'll be thrown in jail and I'll be grounded until I'm thirty."

"May I have at least another kiss?" Sherlock pleaded.

John shook his head, but when he saw Sherlock's dejected expression, he relented, even though his brain was telling him to run and get back into his bedroom. "Okay," he croaked. "But just a small one."

Sherlock leaned into John and gently pressed his lips to his. When he tried to pull him in closer, John broke the kiss and stepped back. "You need to go."

Another clap of thunder rumbled, and this time a streak of lighting lit up the dark sky. "We have to dash or we'll get soaked," John warned.

He began to jog for his open bedroom window. Sherlock watched him leave, a wistful expression on his face. "Goodnight John. This won't be the last time I see you, I promise."

*****

It was a fierce storm. Cacophonous thunder rolled in the atmosphere, bright white lightning crackled fiercely, and heavy rain pounded the windows and roof, but John was sleeping soundly, his conscience clear. His mother, awoken by the weather, had checked in on John and smiled in relief upon seeing her son buried under the covers. She went back to the sofa in the living room and allowed the relentless pounding of the rain to lull her to sleep.

 *****

Someone was pounding on the door but Sherlock ignored it. There wasn't anything he could do. The pills had already taken effect. He lay on the bed, his mind a whirlwind of shapes, colors, and voices all mixing together to create a nightmare symphony. 

_You promised John..._

_He's just a goldfish Sherlock..._

_Caring is not an advantage..._

_He's gone brother mine and he's not coming back, I made sure of it..._

He was lying at the bottom of a swimming pool. The water was cold and heavy and pressing him down into the concrete. He was struggling to move but his limbs felt like they weighed thousands of pounds. Why was he here? 

_She pushed me. I tried to fight her off but she pushed me into the pool. She pushed me and I'm dead. She killed me..._

The door finally tore open, the hinges almost coming off. Patsy Cline's "I Fall to Pieces" played from a clock radio on a tiny nightstand. Sidney and Veronica Holmes rushed to their son. "Sherlock, my God!" Veronica yelled. 

Sidney slapped his son's cheeks. "He's overdosed. Go to the clerk's desk and call for an ambulance." He saw the empty pill bottle on the bed next to his son. "Oh Sherlock, this is going to be the last time. We can't lose you like this. We just can't."

*****

 John watched from the living room window as a black car pulled up to the front of the house. He saw an older gentlemen get out with a stony expression on his handsome face. John thought he looked a little familiar even though he never saw him before. He was coming to the door.

"Hey Harry! Some guy's coming to the door!" he called out to his sister who was the in the kitchen.

Harry appeared and spotted the car. "Great, just great," she muttered.

"You know who it is?" John asked.

"Yeah, it's Sherlock's dad."

John flashed back to Harry, Clarence, and Mom talking to him about Sherlock's parents and their meeting with his mom and brother-in-law. He began to feel anxious. "I hope nothing's happened and we're not in trouble."

The doorbell rang. "I'll get it, you stay right there," Harry firmly told John.

Harry opened the door. "Hello Mr. Holmes," she greeted him coolly.

"Hello Mrs. Winstead. Is John home?" 

Harry observed he looked pale and tired. "What do you want with my brother?" she replied, hesitant.

"It's my son. He was admitted to the hospital last night." He appeared on the verge of tears.

John heard everything and rushed to the door. "Sherlock's in the hospital?" His dark blue eyes were filled with concern.

"John, go back inside please," Harry ordered but John shook his head. "No Harry, I want to know what happened." He turned to Mr. Holmes. "Is Sherlock okay?"

"He overdosed on sleeping pills. He had to have his stomach pumped. We almost lost him." Sidney rubbed his face, trying hard not to cry. 

"Oh my God!" John exclaimed. Then everything he had said to Sherlock last night came crashing down on him like falling debris, and he wanted to sink to the floor. "It's all my fault," he said sadly. "He's in the hospital because of me."

"What?" Harry nearly yelled. "How is this your fault?"

"I told him yesterday I couldn't go with him. He was here last night in the backyard and he asked me to spend some time with him. I told him I couldn't because everyone would be mad at me." 

"Sherlock was here last night? In our yard?" Harry was incredulous.

John ignored his sister. "Mr. Holmes, do you think I could see Sherlock? I feel so guilty." His blue eyes were watery, and his lips were trembling.

"Absolutely not," Harry broke in angrily. "You're not to blame for Sherlock overdosing on pills, and I don't want you near him."

"Harry, that's enough. I'm going and you can't stop me." He turned back to Sherlock's father. "Unless you don't want me there---"

"It's up to your family John. I can't make that decision for you." He smiled wanly at him.

"No you cant, and it's already decided. You're not going. Now get back in the house," Harry retorted.

"But Harry!" John cried.

"I said get inside, or you're grounded for the rest of your stay. And don't fight me, Mom would do the same thing. Now get." Harry narrowed her eyes at her brother.

John opened his mouth to argue, but he thought better of it and clamped his lips shut, stalking back into the living room. Harry watched him and then turned to Sidney. "You know my brother isn't to blame for all of this."

"I know that Mrs. Winstead. I just wanted to let all of you know. After Sherlock recovers, we'll be taking him back to Sherrinford straight away, and we'll make sure to keep him from your brother." He chuckled bitterly. "This isn't the first time he's overdosed. But I hope it's his last, or he's going to rehab." 

There was a few seconds of silence before he spoke again. "Well, I won't keep you. Goodbye Mrs. Winstead." He began to leave, and then he quickly turned to face Harry again. "If you do change your mind about John visiting Sherlock, he's at Cedars-Sinai on Beverly Boulevard."

"I won't be changing my mind. Goodbye Mr. Holmes," Harry said, still firm but with less bite in her voice.

He nodded and got in his car. Harry closed the door. John was sitting on the sofa, fuming.

"You have no right to forbid me from seeing Sherlock," John hissed.

"Oh yes I do John Hamish Watson. You're not getting near that boy again. Especially since he showed up at my house in the middle of the night and you decided to actually speak with him. What is wrong with you? He tried to rape you, and you want to be alone with him?"

"He apologized to me and promised he wouldn't do it again."

"And you believe him?"

"Yes!" John shouted confidently, taking Harry by surprise. "Yes I believe him, and I almost went off with him."

"What the hell for?" Harry shot back.

"Because a part of me is attracted to him. I can't help it. But I told him no, that I wouldn't go with him, because I knew everyone would be angry and upset with me. You and I are so close again, I didn't want us not talking again." He turned away and started to cry.

"Oh John, I'm so sorry," Harry apologized, joining her brother and putting an arm around him. "You're only sixteen, you shouldn't have to be dealing with crap like this." John placed his head on her shoulder and she comforted him. "Things will get better, I promise. Sherlock's father said they're going to go home after he's released from the hospital and keep you away from him."

John silently wondered if that's what he really wanted...

*****

Sherlock was miserable. He was in severe pain from his stomach being pumped, his head throbbed fiercely, and his throat was as dry as a desert. His mother was asleep in a chair next to his bed, he knew she was uncomfortable.

He didn't remember much after taking the sleeping pills he snatched from the Watson's house. What he did remember, was the ache that seeped deep inside him when John changed his mind and told him he didn't want to be with him. The rational part of Sherlock's mind said that he should not be having feelings so strong for a boy he only met four days ago. The emotional part of his mind said to hell with it all and that what he was feeling was love at first sight. He'd always deemed _Romeo and Juliet_ the weakest and sappiest of Shakespeare's plays, but now he could see where The Bard was coming from, and why Romeo and Juliet had intentionally killed themselves to be together forever. Love is a vicious motivator, and it motivated him to want to stop living. All for a boy he barely knows.

He knew John was attracted to him. He didn't fight being held or kissed. He also knew John was fighting that attraction to please his family and friends. He deduced John cared very much what others thought of him, especially since another boy had gone after him before and he suspected it had happened another time as well. He wasn't out to everyone yet, and he wasn't surprised. Sherrinford had its share of narrow-minded citizens. He knew that, only after being there a few weeks.

He wondered if Mycroft and Eurus knew what had happened to him. Mycroft would probably show some sort of sympathy but he didn't expect Eurus to. She had killed his twin after all, pushed him into the pool at The Diogenes Club. After she murdered Sheridan, Sherlock felt that if he became more like her, she'd leave him alone. And for the most part she did. Sherlock had shut down emotionally after Sheridan's death. Even though he had relationships, it was only to get physical gratification and/or score drugs. He'd never fallen in love with the boys he slept with. 

But now he had gone and fallen in love, and he was terrified. Not only terrified of trying to deal with his new explosive feelings for John, but terrified that his sister would lash out and someone else---maybe even him---would end up six feet under.

*****

Mycroft lay on top of his bed, listening to the rain pitter-patter against the windows, absorbing the phone conversation he had with his father regarding Sherlock's hospitalization. He was grateful his brother had been found, but not happy he was in a hospital recovering from yet another overdose. There was nothing he could do, it was Sherlock's choice to take drugs. It was a way to quiet his mind and numb any emotions that would rise to the surface. 

At least Sherlock could feel when he wanted to. Eurus was another story. Even though she claimed to have feelings for her 'boyfriend' (as she called Jim Moriarty), he couldn't help wonder if his sister was simply using him as part of the games she liked to play with people's feelings. Then again, Moriarty didn't seem like a typical boy, which Mycroft could relate to. There was something very similar with him and Sherlock. They both chose to dress like bikers, yet both were highly intelligent. Moriarty didn't care about Eurus being a psychopath, as a matter of fact, Mycroft concluded Jim was attracted to her because of her lack of sympathy. When he talked to him, he could see something in those dark eyes and easy smile. He wanted to rebel. Mycroft was certain Eurus saw it too.

He wasn't going to tell her about Sherlock, and he wasn't going to tell their parents she'd lost her virginity. It wasn't his place to. For once, he had to focus on himself and his needs. He'd carried the burden of trying to deal with his siblings' pathology for too many years. He was only seventeen, but he felt like he was forty. It was a wonder _he_ didn't turn to drugs.

 *****

Wanda sighed as she stirred potato salad in the kitchen. John had been in a funk all day after hearing about Sherlock's overdose, and he blamed himself. He was also upset that Harry had forbade him from visiting Sherlock, and when she and Clarence echoed her sentiments, he holed himself up in his bedroom.

Clarence was outside cooking chicken on the grill, and Harry was with him. Last night's storms had gone, and it was a beautiful afternoon drenched with warm sunshine and blue skies. 

The radio on the counter was playing "Misty" by Johnny Mathis, and Wanda began to sing along. The kitchen side door opened, and Harry appeared. "Potato salad's almost ready," Wanda said.

Harry joined her mother at the counter. "Okay." Then she frowned. "John still in his room?"

Wanda nodded. "He's really in a mood. He's so upset about Sherlock, and feels he's responsible." Wanda looked sharply at her daughter. "Maybe we should let him see Sherlock."

Harry vehemently shook her head. "Mom you can't be serious."

"I don't like it either honey, but I hate seeing him like this. If it's just for a few minutes, then he'll feel better and we can all move on."

"You really think so Mom?"

"I don't see what else we can do. I just want John to be happy. I'll take him to the hospital after lunch."

"Well, if that's what you want to do, but be careful," Harry said.

"I will honey. Let me get John." But John already made his way into the kitchen. "Hi, he said quietly."

"Hi sweetheart." Wanda went to hug him. "I know you're feeling down about Sherlock, and well, I'm not totally on board with it, but after lunch we'll go to the hospital and we'll see if you can visit him okay?"

John perked up. "You'd do that for me Mom?"

"Yes. I hate to see you in the dumps like this." She gave him another squeeze.

"Thanks Mom. It'll really make me feel better."

Harry watched her mother and brother, and she silently hoped this would be the end of the drama.

*****

 The flyer advertised the annual "Back to School Sock Hop" for next Saturday at the Sherrinford Community Center from 7pm -10 pm. It was the perfect event to start the bloodbath, and there were so many victims to choose from. No one would see this coming and by the time the police would catch on it would be too late. Revenge would be gained, and this hypocritical town would finally pay.

Hands angrily crumpled up the paper and it was tossed in the garbage can outside the post office. Feet started pounding the pavement, and fake smiles were given to those walking by. All the while, murderous thoughts were building in the brain like a crescendo. Things were going to change around here, and it if had to result in people dying, so be it.

Ears could hear "I Fall to Pieces" playing from a car driving down the street. How appropriate, because it wouldn't be long before pieces would be falling---human pieces.

 

 


	13. All I Have to Do is Dream

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sherlock and John have a heart to heart in Sherlock's hospital room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is just our two boys talking and coming to terms with the dynamics of their relationship.

John stood outside the door of Sherlock's hospital room on the fourth floor, fists clenched, mentally bracing himself to enter. He had convinced his mother to stay in the waiting room despite her objections. He didn't want a lot of drama upon seeing Sherlock, he just wanted to find out how he was. 

Taking a deep breath, he turned the knob. _You can do this,_ he silently pep-talked. _You wanted to do this._

He opened the door and quietly walked in. He saw Sherlock was asleep. He looked so peaceful with his eyes closed, and his dark curls were mussed and spread on the white pillowcase. 

John's stomach was taught with dread but he eventually softly sat down in the chair next to him. He said nothing at first, just content to watch Sherlock sleep, seeing quiet breaths escape from his pink lips. Lips that just last night, were pressed to his with fevered lust. He shook his head trying to clear that image. He was just here to see for himself how he was, and then he would leave.

The calm silence was broken by the door opening up. Veronica Holmes entered, and upon seeing John, her pale blue eyes widened in surprise at the stranger sitting next to her son's bed. 

John looked at the woman. _Sherlock's mom, he looks just like her. Wow, this is going to be awkward._

Veronica composed herself. She noticed John's apprehension but ignored it. "Hello, I'm Veronica Holmes, Sherlock's mother. You must be John Watson."

John swallowed hard and nodded. "Yes ma'am. I just wanted---I just wanted to see how he was doing. Mr. Holmes came by my sister's house and told us what happened. I'm so sorry, I didn't mean for any of this to happen." Tears welled up in his dark blue eyes.

"Oh John, no, no, no, none of this is your fault. Sherlock has overdosed before. It's his way of coping with stressful situations. If anything, he should be apologizing, for what he tried to do to you."

She smiled sadly at him, and then at her son. John felt like an intruder. He stood up. "Um, thank you Mrs. Holmes. Well, I'll guess I'll go, since he's sleeping."

Just then, Sherlock began to stir. Veronica moved close to him, and John moved to stand behind her. The two watched as Sherlock opened up his mouth and yawned. John thought he looked like a cat doing that. He slowly opened his eyes, blinking twice. "Hello Mother," he said sleepily. Then he saw John.

John locked eyes with him. "Hi Sherlock," he shyly murmured.

Sherlock broke out into a huge grin. He was here. His John, his perfect boy, his ray of light. "John," he happily replied.

"I hope it's okay I'm here. Your dad told me what happened, and my mom agreed to bring me to see you." He looked away, out to the window. "I'm sorry Sherlock. If I had known you would do this---"

"Don't be sorry John. It's not your fault," Sherlock reassured him. 

"I feel so guilty," John lamented.

Veronica placed a comforting hand on John's back. "There's nothing to feel guilty for John. And I'm glad you're here. You're a very strong young man."

John smiled at her. "Thanks Mrs. Holmes."

"I think I'm going to step out for a bit so you boys can talk. Will you be okay John?" she asked, a little hesitant. After all, it was only several days ago John had left Sherrinford because of her son's actions.

"I'll be fine, thank you." To prove her point, he sat back down next to Sherlock, who frowned at his mother. "I'm not going to hurt him Mother. Not anymore."

Veronica saw the intense sincerity in her son's icy eyes. And she saw John was more than comfortable sitting next to him. "Okay dear. I'll be in the waiting room." She turned and opened up the door out into the hallway. John set his gaze on Sherlock. "How are you feeling?"

"Much better now that you're here." He gently covered his hand with John's. 

"I can't stay long," John half-whispered. 

"I know." Sherlock began to draw lazy circles with his index finger on the top of John's hand. John closed his eyes and relaxed into the touch.

"You like that." Sherlock grinned again.

"Yeah, but I shouldn't. I shouldn't even be here. My family was not happy when I insisted I wanted to see you."

Sherlock snorted. "Of course they weren't."

John looked down at his sneakers. "So, this isn't the first time you've overdosed."

"No." He gripped John's hand tightly. 

"You have to get off drugs Sherlock. It's not healthy. Being an addict can ruin a lot of lives, I should know."

"Your sister, wasn't it John?"

John's head snapped up sharply. "How did you know?"

"It couldn't have been you, you're an athlete and you need to stay clean. It's not your mother, she's very careful with her sleeping pills. When I took her bottle, it was almost full. So it had to have been your sister."

"Harry would drink a lot. We lost touch for a while. It was very painful because we were so close when we were younger. But she eventually sobered up. A lot of that is due to Clarence. He took a chance on her when nobody else did." John wiped away a tear. "I've seen what booze did to her. I can't have another person in my life who's an addict."

"You want me in your life John?" Sherlock stared at him, his icy eyes burning into John's.

"I---I don't know. Maybe? I'm just so confused."

"I know I want to be in your life." Sherlock sat up and pulled the blankets off his legs, and moved so he was sitting on the edge of the bed facing John. He reached out and caressed John's cheek with his thumb. John shivered at the touch and Sherlock smiled. "You bring me all of these new feelings. Whenever I see you I start to get warm inside. Nobody makes me feel the way you do. That's why I've reacted so strongly."

"I've never been in a relationship before. I just wasn't interested in dating. I had plenty of offers from both girls and guys but I'm happy being single. I never was attracted to anyone." John blushed lightly.

"I know you're attracted to me John." Sherlock was standing over him now, peering down at that beautiful tanned face. "Don't deny it." He knelt in front of him, taking calloused small hands in his larger pale ones.

"Sherlock, we can't be together, attraction or not. My family will never allow it. You have to understand."

"I understand, but I just want you to be honest with me. Tell me you're attracted to me."

John pursed his lips. How could he be attracted to a boy that tried to rape him? Especially when just last year Sebastian Wilkes cornered him? He'd be branded a hypocrite. However, he couldn't ignore the inevitable. There was something about Sherlock that Sebastian just didn't have. Something deep down that intrigued John. There was a lot more to him then let on. 

He sighed. "Okay, I admit there is a slight attraction. But I can't act on it." He cast a firm gaze on Sherlock. "And if you really want to make it up to me like you say you do, you'll respect my wishes."

Sherlock nodded. "I'll respect your wishes. Then he smirked. "I do have your sister's number though. I can call you, you know."

"Don't you dare. If anyone else but me answers the phone, the both of us we'll be in big trouble. And don't pay any more late night visits to the house either. My sister nearly shit a brick when she found out you were in the backyard last night." John narrowed his dark eyes and pursed his lips at Sherlock.

Sherlock laughed, his first one since coming to Los Angeles. "You give orders so well. You should join the military."

"My dad was a cook in the Army." A flicker of sadness crossed his face as an image of his father flashed in his mind. John was the spitting image of Ham Watson with the broad shoulders, golden hair, and sapphire eyes. 

"He's deceased, your father," Sherlock mused.

John nodded. "He died in a car accident when I was thirteen. He was riding with a friend, and another car came out of nowhere from a side street and crashed into them. It was so sudden and there was nothing Sam could do to avoid it. Sam was paralyzed after the accident. I hate to say it, but I would rather Dad be dead than alive and not being able to walk. It would have destroyed him." 

Sherlock gently cupped John's chin with his hand. "I don't want you to be sad John. I want to see you happy and full of life. You're my sun, my conductor of light." He bent down and kissed him tenderly.

John looked at him and chuckled. "Are you sure the doctors got all of the drugs out of your system?" he teased.

"Oh I'm sure. I've got the sore stomach to prove it."

John smiled thinly. "I'd better go. Mom's probably climbing the walls, and you need to get back in bed and get your rest. This visit made me feel better."

"Me too John. I'm glad you were able to come." Sherlock glanced past John at at the wooden door of the hospital room. "After I'm released, my parents will be taking back home. You'll stay here won't you."

"Yeah, for the rest of the week, and then I'll be back Tuesday."

Sherlock was grim. "It'll be hard not seeing you when you return."

"We'll be in school together the following week. We might even have some classes together. It's not like you won't be able to talk to me."

"I know, but it won't be the same." Sherlock gazed at John affectionately.

John had to laugh. "We're like some tragic couple in those cheesy soap operas Mom likes to watch."

"I prefer to compare us to Romeo and Juliet," Sherlock replied.

"Oh God, and I'm Juliet, right?" John groaned.

"Well, Juliet was Romeo's sun, and you're my sun. And you are smaller and fairer than I am." Sherlock playfully mocked.

"Hey!" John started to argue, but he was cut off by another kiss from Sherlock. Once the taller boy broke the kiss for some air, he smiled sadly at John. "You should probably go now."

"Yeah. Get better soon, and please, no more drugs okay?" John gave him a hopeful, pleading glance.

"As long as you're here, there won't be any drugs," Sherlock seriously responded.

John smiled back at him and turned the door handle to leave. Once he was gone, Sherlock leaned against the door, the cold, hard wood pressed into his forehead. He was missing John already.

*****

The rest of the day went by smoothly for John. He told his family that he and Sherlock agreed to seeing each other as classmates in school, and he reassured them the worst of it was over. And from there, things started to get normal again. They had leftovers for dinner on the patio, and John retreated to his room to listen to the radio and read. Tomorrow, Wanda would be taking John out to do some back-to-school shopping since Harry had to return back to work at the garage. Everyone was looking forward to the rest of the week being calm and carefree.

*****

John lay on his bed, trying hard not to fall asleep, but the events of the day had worn him out, and before long, his eyes were closing and he turned his head away from the nightstand and he slipped into slumberland, images of a certain dark-haired boy easing into his mind. The radio was still on, playing "All I Have to do is Dream" by The Everly Brothers. 

And at Cedars-Sinai Hospital, the dark-haired boy of John's dreams also slept, also having dreams of his own, about a certain blond with eyes for sapphires and a lovely laugh that filled him to the core with warmth and longing.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> After this chapter, we do a time jump to the weekend, and the night of Janine's big slumber party!


	14. Rave On

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Janine is having a slumber party. Carl Powers and his friends weren't invited but they still want to come anyway. Sherlock is back in Sherrinford and missing John, who is still in LA and gets some surprise visitors.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So we're back focusing on some of the other teens, and this chapter is not going to be as angsty as the last few have been. I do want to post a warning for some very mild homophobia, and coveting of a certain body type which is not my actual opinion.

It was Saturday, and a very sunny one in Sherrinford. The rain and humidity of the week finally left, and the air was dry and calm. Janine Hawkins was thrilled. Her slumber party was tonight, and the beautiful weather meant she and her friends could spend some time outside. 

Janine had been planning the party for weeks. She had invited all her fellow Culverton Smith High cheerleaders, along with Mary Morstan and Molly Hooper. Molly though, had told her she wasn't coming, and Janine wasn't happy---until Molly revealed the reason she wouldn't be there, and Janine wasn't angry anymore. Molly would have more fun where she was going, and she probably would have felt out of place with all the other cheerleaders, even though she was friends with Mary, who wasn't a cheerleader, and Sarah Sawyer, who was one. Molly was self-conscious because she was flat chested, very thin, and considered "adorable" and not "pretty" or "sexy" as the other girls.

Janine thought it was bullshit. Not only had Molly managed to lure the hunky Greg Lestrade away from Irene Adler, considered the foxiest girl at school, but what her friend didn't know was that some of the other cheerleaders envied Molly's rail-thin figure and that she could wear practically anything and looked cute in it. They also were tired of boys making crude remarks to them about their curvy bodies and breasts. Molly had bemoaned several times about being "invisible," Janine had told her to be lucky she wasn't an object of desire for the opposite sex. That was before Mycroft Holmes moved into the neighborhood and started pursuing Molly, however.

Janine pushed all those thoughts aside as she went down her checklist. The food was taken care of. Her boyfriend Mike Stamford would be delivering pizza, burgers, sodas, and hot dogs from Mrs. Hudson, who gave it to her for free. She had the record player and all the latest rock & pop records. (It helped her parents were big fans of the current music). She had her "beauty kit" which consisted of makeup, nail polish, and hair accessories so they could give each other makeovers. The bedrooms were all clean and ready for her friends (Janine's house had six bedrooms and the remaining four all had twin beds and a couch, which was used to entertain other family members when they came for holidays). 

The doorbell rang, jostling Janine from her thoughts. "I'll get it!" she called out, running through the foyer to the front. She opened the pristine white double doors and saw Irene Adler standing there, red hair shiny and hanging loose. She wore a pale blue off-the-shoulder top and pink shorts. "Hey," she said cheerfully.

"Hi! I thought you were heading off to Beverly Hills with Kate today," Janine replied.

"I am, but I wanted to come by and see how you were. Everything ready for tonight?"

"Yeah." Janine looked steadily at her friend. "Are you okay? I know it's only been a week since you and Greg---"

"I'm fine Janine. We were getting stale anyway. Greg's better off with Molly. She likes to do the traditional teen stuff that Greg does, and well, community dances and freezing my ass off on the beach at night wasn't really my idea of fun. It's okay though. I've got Kate, and we're happy."

"To be honest, I never pegged you as a switch-hitter, but whatever floats your boat," Janine said matter-of-fact.

Irene laughed. "Well, to quote John Watson, you like who you like. Speaking of John, where's that little dreamboat been?" 

"He's in Los Angeles visiting his sister and brother-in-law. He said he wanted to do it before school started." Janine didn't tell Irene the real reason he was there. If she found out John was being harassed by Sherlock Holmes, she would make sure the whole town knew, even though most already did. Irene was a huge gossip. She also knew Irene held a weird fascination with Sherlock, even though he'd never show any sexual interest in her. 

"Mmm, lucky him. I wish I had relatives who lived somewhere exciting, and not Nowheresville, USA. I think I was the only Adler to inherit a taste for the non-mundane."

Janine chuckled. "I don't think the world is ready for another Irene Adler."

Irene grinned mischievously. "I'm too unique for there to be another me. Well, I'd better be off. Have fun tonight."

"You too Irene. Try not to buy out Rodeo Drive though, or Hollywood will have to resort to Woolworth's and Montgomery Ward's if they want somewhere to shop."

Irene threw her head back and laughed. "You're hysterical Hawkins. Catch you later."

With a wide smile, she turned around and sauntered away, hips swaying like a palm tree caught in a slow summer breeze. Janine chuckled again and shook her head, then went back inside to continue preparing for the party.

******

John hurried to the front door, hearing the sharp knock on the door. "I'm coming, be there in a sec!" he called.

Deep blue eyes widened in surprise, and then elation as he saw three very familiar people on the porch. "Molly! Greg! Victor! What are you doing here? Come in!" He moved so his friends could come inside.

"Hey buddy!" Greg Lestrade happily exclaimed. He held up his palm and he and John exchanged a high-five. Molly giggled, and Victor beamed. "We'd thought we'd surprise you and pay you a visit," Greg exclaimed. 

"How on earth did you manage that? Especially you Molly, with how protective your folks are."

Molly laughed. "Believe it or not, they were perfectly fine with me coming to visit you, especially with Greg and Victor to, as Mom put it, watch out for my welfare. They also knew your mom was here, so no worries."

"It's just for today though. We have to be back on the road by this evening. Which is totally not cool man. I'd love to spend a few days in LA. I've never been and it looks amazing," Victor said. 

"I love it here, but don't worry guys, I'm coming back next week. You and I have a date at Woolworth's for back-to-school shopping, remember?" John grinned at Molly.

He motioned for them to follow him into the kitchen. "You guys hungry or thirsty?"

"I'm not, we stopped and had breakfast at Denny's. How about you babe?" Greg asked Molly, who shook her head no.

"I'm good too," Victor replied.

"Well, do you wanna hit the beach? Harry and Clarence are working at the garage, and Mom will be back any moment from the store." John's eyes lit up in anticipation of cutting through those waves.

"God, we'd thought you'd never ask!" Greg enthused. "We brought our beach gear."

"Great! Let me grab my stuff. Come with me, I'll show you my bedroom," John told his friends.

The four crowded into the tiny room. "Pretty homey John," Victor expressed.

"Yeah, Harry and Clarence have a cute pad. It's not fancy but it's close to everything and down the street from the garage."

The teens heard the front door open. "It's Mom," John said, heading for the living room.

Wanda Watson stood in the doorway, bags on the ground. "Here Mom, let me help you," John offered, scooping up the bags and taking them into the kitchen.

"Thanks honey." Her eyes lit up upon seeing Greg, Molly, and Victor." Good heavens, what are you three doing here?" she asked, a wide smile on her face.

"We wanted to surprise John," Molly explained.

"Did you all come together?" Wanda inquired.

Greg nodded. "I drove, Molly and Victor rode shotgun."

"Well it's good to see all of you. Are you just down for the day?"

"Yes, we'll be here until dinnertime," Molly said.

"You have to stay for dinner. I'm making spaghetti with meatballs, along with salad and homemade bread," Wanda insisted.

"I can't pass that up Mrs. Watson. How about you Greg and Molly?" Victor replied, his taste buds tingling at the thought. Mrs. Watson's spaghetti and bread was the best.

The couple looked at each other and beamed. "We'll stay," Greg told her.

"Wonderful. And I'm assuming you're all heading to the beach now? It's a splendid day for it, now with those storms moved off the coast."

"You know it!" piped up John, coming back and standing beside his mom. He gave her a peck on the cheek. "Unless plans change, we'll be there until it's time to come back for dinner. Let me get my stuff and we can split. Tell Harry and Clarence they're going to have three more guests tonight!"

*****

 Sherlock was not afraid of swimming pools even though his twin brother died in one. Neither was Mycroft. Being in a pool meant they didn't give into their fear, and it showed Eurus she hadn't beaten them. So Sherlock was doing laps in his pool behind the huge Holmes mansion, letting the cool water clear his mind from the events of the last several days.

Sherlock had been released from the hospital the previous morning and his parents immediately took him back to Sherrinford. They asked him what happened between he and John while he was in Los Angeles. Sherlock had actually been honest with them. He told his parents they had kissed, John admitted his attraction to him but would not act on it, and they agreed to just being classmates once school started. 

Sherlock wanted more. He knew he didn't deserve more. Who in their right mind would pursue a romantic relationship with someone that first tried to rape them? If he had acted like a normal human being towards John and simply asked him on a date, they wouldn't be apart. But Sherlock was not a normal human being and didn't do normal things like dates. Whenever he was with someone, they never went out to eat, or to the cinema, or hung out. It was heated couplings in cars, or beds, or anywhere private he could find. 

Sherlock finished his lap and climbed the ladder to get out of the pool, shaking the excess water out of his dark hair, and grabbed his towel that sat in a lounge chair. He wrapped it around his slim waist, and sat down, putting his sunglasses on his face, basking in the early afternoon sunshine like a contented cat. He wasn't that content though, he missed John.

He wanted John to be sitting beside him and swimming with him in the pool. He wanted to play music for John on his violin. He wanted to show John his collection of pirate memorabilia. He wanted John on his bed to kiss and cuddle with. It was never going to happen, all thanks to his arrogance and ignorance. He'd have to settle for longing glances in the hallways of his new school, and he was going to make those glances _count._

The next week and a half couldn't come soon enough.

*****

**Carl Powers' house, late afternoon**

Carl couldn't keep the devious grin off his face even if someone paid him to. His mouth was practically watering in anticipation of spying on all the good-looking chicks at Janine Hawkins' house tonight.

"Get that shit-eating grin off your face, you pervert," Sebastian Moran cracked. "I'm starting to think trying to crash Janine's slumber party isn't a good idea."

"What's the matter Little Seb, you don't like girls anymore?" Marty Freeman mocked. "I think you've been hanging out with Wilkes too much. His queerness is rubbing off on you."

"Fuck off Freeman. I don't care whether you think I'm gay or not. At least I don't try and sleep with any girl that looks at me funny to prove my manhood." Sebastian's green eyes flashed angrily at his so-called friend.

Marty's mouth dropped open, and Tim Carlton, who was sitting next to him, laughed. "Little Seb's got you there Marty."

"Okay then, how come you're still here and not leaving, if you don't want to do this?" Marty challenged Sebastian.

This time Sebastian smiled. "'Cause Pop thinks sneaking up on the girls is good practice for when I join the Army. 'Tactical maneuvers' he calls it. For me, it's got nothing to do with seeing girls in their jammies, or maybe lack of. And, there are worse things I could be doing on a Saturday night."

"Your dad is ape Little Seb," Art Doyle said, but with envy. "I can't believe he encouraged you to do this. I had to tell my folks I was going with Carl and all of you to the movies. If they found out I'm going to play peeping tom they'd tan my hide so raw I wouldn't be able to sit for a month!"

"My Pop ain't like other pops," Sebastian bragged. 

"Okay, cut the gas guys," Carl ordered. "Tim told me that Janine's party starts at six. We'll give them time to get settled before we do our sneak attack."

Marty looked sharply at Tim. "How do you know the party starts at six?"

Tim groaned, and Carl frowned at Marty. "You fucking idiot! Tim's girlfriend is going to the party, of course he knows!"

Marty smacked his forehead with the palm of his hand, and the other boys snickered. "Jesus, I'm sorry Tim, don't mind me."

Tim chuckled. "I'm surprised you can walk and chew gum at the same time."

"It must be the hormones," Art teased.

"Yeah, yeah, it was funny only the first time," Marty huffed.

As the boys continued to make plans and tease each other, Susan Powers stood at the top of the basement stairs, listening to everything, and a devilish gleam flashed in her eyes. Smirking, she left and headed towards the phone in the kitchen.

*****

It was crowded, but somehow everyone managed to sit around the table on Harry and Clarence's patio, chowing down on spaghetti, salad, and bread. It was a gorgeous late summer evening, and Harry had brought the radio out so they could listen to music. It was absolutely perfect.

Wanda, Harry, and Clarence were thrilled to see John enjoying himself and talking with his friends about their plans for the last week of summer before school. He, Molly, Greg, and Victor were going to go to the sock hop at the community center next Saturday, and were going to go clothes shopping and have lunch together. Wanda was relieved to have her son back, the fun-loving, carefree John that existed before Sherlock Holmes laid eyes on him. She just hoped that situation was gone and buried.

Too soon, dinner was over and John's friends had to get on the road to get back to Sherrinford. The three were standing outside by Greg's car.

"I'm go glad you guys came down to spend the day with me. It was a blast," John said. "Be careful going home."

Molly grabbed John and squeezed him tight. "I can't wait until you're back home. I miss you."

John grunted. "Damn Molly, for such a tiny girl, you sure have strong hugs!"

Molly laughed. "I'm just full of surprises." She released him and kissed him on the cheek. See you next week!"

Greg clapped John on the back. "It was a total gas today buddy. I can see why you love LA."

"Maybe next time you can stay longer," John told his friend. "One day in this city is not enough." He turned to Victor. John knew that Victor had feelings for him, and the first part of the day was a bit awkward with them making small talk. Then while at the beach, Victor was getting a hot dog when a tall, tanned, muscular seventeen year-old blond boy with hazel eyes introduced himself as Eddie Van Coon, quarterback for the Baskerville High football team, and gave him his phone number. When Victor told John, Molly and Greg about the handsome teen, they all encouraged him to go for it, despite his parents' feelings. Victor agreed he would call him. 

"And you Mister heartthrob quarterback, keep Molly and Greg straight even though we know you aren't," John teased Victor with a wink.

Victor grinned broadly. "You know it." He held his arms out and John embraced him. "It feels good to know I'm not the only gay high school quarterback in the state," he murmured.

"I hope it works out Victor," John sincerely replied.

Once the two broke apart, the three got into Greg's car. John waved them off. "Bye! See you next week!"

He watched them speed away, and for a second John's heart felt heavy. But he quickly shrugged it off. It had been a great day, and he had three more of them to look forward to until he and his mother would be going back to Sherrinford. He had a lot to look forward to. A new school year, and his mom had told him she accepted the apartment at the beach and they would be moving in September. John was overjoyed. It seemed things were finally clicking into place. 

He walked into the house. Harry and Wanda were washing the dinner dishes, and Clarence was folding laundry in the small utility room where the washer and dryer was. The radio was still playing. John thought it was a perfect summer evening. 

The phone rang, and John was on it. "I'll get it!" he happily called out. He dashed to the small end table by the sofa and picked it up. "Hello."

He almost dropped the receiver when he heard that seductive low baritone answer him through the line. "John," Sherlock breathed. "Oh, I'm so glad it's you that answered. I know I shouldn't be calling there, but I had to. I miss you."

*****

 The girls were all filed in Janine's huge living room. The chaperones, Janine's mom, and Linda Stamford, were there, and they had determined looks on their faces. Janine did too, and the other girls wondered what was going on.

"Okay ladies, I just found out from a reputable source that several young men are planning to crash this slumber party," Barbara Hawkins announced.

Mary Morstan snorted. "It's no surprise, and I'll bet you my next paycheck Carl Powers is the ringleader."

"Oh my God!" Sarah Sawyer exclaimed. "Carl is such a creep."

"Yeah he sure is, and I'll also bet you Marty Freeman and Art Doyle are in on it too. They'll chase anything in a skirt," Jennifer Wilson, a pretty brown-haired girl with green eyes and freckles, retorted, shaking her head.

"Hey Sophie, you think Tim will be with them?" Mary turned to her right where Sophie Hunter, a tall, beautiful slender teen with long black hair and doe eyes stood. 

 "If he is, he's never going to hear the end of it from me. I keep telling him to stay away from Carl and those goons, but his head is as hard as a diamond," Sophie replied, frowning.

"So what are going to do Mom?" Janine asked. 

"Don't worry, Linda and I have a plan," Barbara answered, a devious smirk on her face. "They're not due here for another hour and we've got some time to execute our revenge."

The girls all cheered. 

"Well, let's get started ladies!" Linda Stamford said excitedly. "The game is on!"

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Teenage boys...what can I say? And do you like lil' Sophie Hunter?


	15. It's All in the Game

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pajama party shenanigans and Sherlock's desperately in love.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Horny teenagers. That's pretty much it.

John was floored that Sherlock called him, but then again, he did suggest he would during their talk in the hospital. Now he either had to get him off the line, which meant his sister and mother would hear the argument, or he could lie and say it was one of his friends from home and take the call in another room. He chose the latter.

"Uh, hang on a sec," he quietly told Sherlock. He put the phone down and went into the kitchen. "Mom, Harry, it's Mike. I'm going to take the call in the bedroom." He hated lying to them, but it was the only way to avoid suspicion.

"Okay honey," Wanda said.

John went back to the phone. "Give me your number. I told Mom and Harry it was my friend Mike. I need to hang up and call you from the bedroom. I can't have them knowing it's you."

"It's 555-0719," Sherlock replied. "I'll be waiting."

John hung up and dashed down the hall into Harry and Clarence's room. They had a phone, there wasn't one in his room. He sat on the bed and picked up the receiver to dial Sherlock, who picked up on the first ring. 

"Hi John."

"Hi Sherlock. I can't talk long. I shouldn't even be talking to you on the phone at all."

"I know and I'm sorry...I just needed to hear your voice. I miss you."

"Sherlock, it's only been four days since we last talked." 

There was silence, and John immediately regretted what he said. "I'm sorry. It's just that, well, I'm in a bind here. You know my family doesn't want me talking to you. It's making me uncomfortable. I had to lie and say it was a friend I'm talking to, and I don't like doing that."

"I know, but I'm lonely." Sherlock sighed sadly, and John felt a tightness in his chest. He did feel remorse for him, but at the same time, his social skills didn't endear him to have many friends. 

"I take it your brother and sister aren't around much to talk to you?" John asked.

Sherlock snorted, which caused John to chuckle. "You don't talk to Mycroft and Eurus, you snipe and argue with them. When I got home, Mycroft chastised me about running off, and Eurus only wanted to know if you were really worth it. I told her of course you were worth it. I would do it again in a heartbeat."

"You would run away to Los Angeles and overdose on pills again, going through the torture of having your stomach pumped, just to have a few minutes with me?" John was in disbelief. "Come on Sherlock, I'm nothing special. I'm just an ordinary kid living an ordinary life."

"You're far from ordinary John and you're very special to me. You're my light. When I see you, there's no darkness. You're radiant."

A chill ran down John's spine. No one has ever talked to him or complimented him like that, not even his mom. "Wow, I don't know what to say. I have to admit, that makes me feel very good."

"As it should John. I'd do anything to get back to you...I love you."

John again was in disbelief. "You can't be in love with me Sherlock, we've only known each other for less than a week, and our interactions have not been, well, normal."

"Don't you believe in love at first sight?" Sherlock asked.

" _Romeo and Juliet_ again," John replied with a laugh.

"I always thought it was a silly play and one of Shakespeare's lesser works, but after meeting you, it seemed Shakespeare proved me wrong, and that never happens. I'm never wrong."

"Humble is not in your vocabulary is it Sherlock?" John shook his head. 

"I've deleted that word from my mind palace. I've deleted a lot of things, to make room for you."

"Huh? Mind palace? Sherlock, what the hell are you talking about?"

"My mind John. I separate my mind into different wings that holds important information. If I find something isn't useful or worth my time, I delete it. You however, are very important and worth my time, so I created a whole new room in my mind just about you."

"Wow Sherlock, I have to admit, I'm impressed and flattered." John twisted the phone cord around in his index finger. "You're not like any guy I've ever met."

"I want to be your only guy John," Sherlock said softly.

"I'm just sixteen Sherlock."

"Me too."

"Don't you think you're too young to want to be in a committed relationship? I don't want to be tied down," John calmly countered.

"You're it John. I don't want anyone else."

"What about what I want?"

"What do you want John? Or should I say, _whom_ do you want?"

John chewed on his lip. It can't be Sherlock, that's for certain. His family would be upset and angry and he couldn't have that. "I don't know Sherlock. But it can't be you, and you know why. We've been over this."

"I'll wait for you."

"No Sherlock. You'll get bored, and I have a feeling when you get bored, it's not good."

Sherlock chuckled. "I don't like being bored. But I know you'll never bore me John. You're way too interesting."

"What's so interesting about me? I'm sure compared to the guys you had back in England, I'm nothing."

"Those guys, as you put it, were just transport John. Nothing to be concerned about."

 "Transport? Is that like your mind palace?" 

Sherlock chuckled. "No, but if it helps you to think of it that way..."

John sighed. "I don't get you. I don't think I'll ever will." Seconds later, he could hear his mom calling for him. "Sherlock, my mom wants me, I really need to go."

"Okay. Will you come and see me next week when you're back in Sherrinford?"

"Sherlock..." John sighed again. "What did I tell you?"

"I can't help it. I love you John. I've never felt this way before. Sociopaths aren't supposed to love. Well, that's what Mycroft and Eurus keep saying."

"Look Sherlock, you need to stop listening to your siblings. No wonder you're so screwed up when it comes to feelings. Listen to your heart."

"I've been reliably informed that I don't have one," Sherlock bitterly retorted.

"Everyone has a heart. And maybe if we listened to it more, we'd be better off," John affirmed.

"Then you can be my heart," Sherlock said matter-of-fact.

"John!" Wanda called out. "We're going to Dairy Queen, do you want to come?"

"Look Sherlock, I need to hang up. Everyone wants to go out to get some ice cream. I'll talk to you later yeah?"

"Promise?" Sherlock's voice sounded so hopeful, and so much like a little boy that John couldn't help feel a little sorry for him. "I promise. But not until next week okay?"

"Next week John. I love you."

"Goodnight Sherlock." John hung up the phone and composed himself before stepping out of the bedroom. He had to nip this Sherlock situation in the bud. When he returned home next week he would keep his promise, but it would be to tell him the only relationship they could have would be as classmates in school. He was not going to risk upsetting his family and friends for a boy. 

*****

 Sherlock lay on his bed, staring up at the ceiling but the only thing he could see was John's sweet face, his dark blue eyes that occasionally show a trace of chocolate brown in them, and that shiny hair that glistened like gold in the sunlight. He was dangerously and desperately in love with John Watson, and just wanted to take him away and keep him. 

His arm reached out to the other side of the bed, and he imagined John lying beside him, laughing and caressing his hair, his tanned fingers stroking his dark curls. He hadn't greased his hair back since he left for Los Angeles, hoping to look softer and less threatening for John so he would be more open to talking with him. 

He didn't want to feel this way. Mycroft had pounded into his head over and over that caring was not an advantage and sentiment was a weakness. But he was a hypocrite. His older brother had gone and made a fool of himself over Molly Hooper. Eurus was no better, losing her virginity to Jim Moriarty. While they pursued their desires, Sherlock had to reign his in. But no more. If his siblings were going to get what they wanted, so was he. 

*****

"You guys are such nerds. I don't know why I'm letting you park your cars here." Sebastian Wilkes scowled at Carl Powers and his gang which consisted of Marty Freeman, Little Seb Moran, Tim Carlton, Art Doyle, and Jeff Hope. A little before seven pm, Carl and his friends showed up at the Wilkes home and begged Sebastian to let them keep their cars in his yard while they went a few doors down to Janine Hawkins' house to sneak up on her and her girlfriends and crash their sleepover.

"Look Big Seb, we don't want the girls to know we're coming. And nobody's gonna think twice about seeing cars here on your lawn since you're usually having parties, and your folks are out tonight," Carl said. 

"Yeah, and you certainly aren't going to be around a bunch of half-naked chicks in their underwear," Marty cracked, a knowing grin on his face.

"And people call me queer," Big Seb shot back. "Your little plot to spy on some skin is lame city. What if you get caught?"

"We won't with Little Seb in the group. He's our super soldier and he'll get us out," Carl confidently replied. Little Seb just grinned.

Big Seb shook his head. "You're all ridiculous."

Jeff snorted. "Says the guy who diddles other guys. At least what we're doing is normal, male teenage behavior---"

"Back off Jeff. Now's not the time to to be self-righteous. And you of all people should know, considering how you like to try and trick people into taking your sister's birth control pills," Tim shot back.

Jeff turned bright red, and the other boys laughed heartily. "Yeah, you're all a bunch of hypocrites," Big Seb sneered. "I may be a fag but I don't go around judging other people."

"Yeah Big Seb, you just threaten to beat up teenage girls at the park who then turn around and slice up your sorry little ass," Art barked.

The older boy narrowed his blue eyes and took a step towards Art, who shrunk back. "You're all mouth Doyle. One day it'll get you in trouble. Any other time, I'd give you a good smacking, but not tonight. Good thing you caught me in a nice mood."

Little Seb chuckled bitterly. "And we know with you nice moods are far and few between."

Big Seb frowned at the younger teen but said nothing, as he genuinely liked him, and Little Seb didn't make cracks about his sexuality.  

There was an uncomfortable silence, and then Henry Knight, Big Seb's boyfriend, appeared with two pizza boxes. He took in the group and smiled thinly. Henry was a small boy, and some of the others standing there had pushed him around from time to time before he started living with Big Seb. They knew now not to mess with him. "Hi guys," he said quietly. 

"I see you brought your old man dinner," Carl joked.

"Yeah, we were in the mood for pizza. Are you joining us?" Henry asked, a little timidly.

"Nope, we got better things to do little Hank. We are going to crash Janine Hawkins' slumber party and show those chicks slumbering's no fun without the boys!" Carl replied proudly.

Henry just shrugged. "Whatever makes you happy," he said, and quickly moved past the other teens into the house so he could set the pizza down. He secretly thought it was stupid, but he wasn't going to say it to Carl's face. The older boy had no qualms practicing his award-winning wrestling moves on others if need be.

Carl beamed. "See Big Seb? Your little boy toy even understands we just want to have some fun with the ladies."

Big Seb shook his head. He knew Henry was just placating Carl. "Look, you all just get out of here before I change my mind okay?"

"Yeah Big Seb. We're going. We can't keep those little foxes waiting! Come on you goons!" Carl clapped Big Seb on the shoulder and he and the rest of the gang followed him out of the driveway. Sebastian watched them leave, and he quickly closed the door. He had much better things to do tonight, and most of them involved being on top of his little Henry. 

He met his boyfriend in the kitchen, who was putting pizza on plates. "Can you get the sodas out of the fridge Sebby?" Henry asked.

"Of course babe." Henry was the only one allowed to call him Sebby. Anyone else who did would get a knuckle sandwich.

Sebastian retrieved two Cokes from the fridge and set them down on the table. Henry looked up and smiled his sweet little smile at him. Sebastian felt a warmth pooling in his belly, and wrapped his arms around the younger boy. "I love you," he said. 

"I love you too," Henry replied.

"Yeah? You gonna show me how much later?" Sebastian teased, planting hot kisses on Henry's neck.

"You know I will." Henry shuddered at Sebastian's soft mouth on his skin. Despite his reputation for being a tough troublemaker, Sebastian was a very attentive and affectionate lover, and he would always feel grateful for him and his parents taking him in after his own parents died, and his aunt and uncle refused to have him come live with them due to his homosexuality. Luckily, Sebastian's mother and father didn't care about sexual preference. They were happy that Sebastian had someone to love, which kept him calm and satisfied, for the most part. His temper did flare up now and again, and Henry had given him a piece of his mind the day he came home bleeding after being cut up by Eurus Holmes. 

_"You've got to stop threatening people Sebby. Normally people won't fight you, but this time you've met someone who won't think twice about defending herself, and you got hurt. Use your head for something besides a hat rack."_

Then Henry cleaned and dressed his wound, gave him pain killers, and even cooked dinner for him that night. He didn't put out though, and after three days of no sex, Sebastian was remorseful and promised he wouldn't go near Eurus or anyone else like that again. Henry may be meek for the most part, but when he refused to allow Sebastian to touch him, suddenly he was the most powerful person around.

"Hey gorgeous," Sebastian murmured into Henry's ear. "What are you thinking about?"

"You and your temper. You've been good though, so I'll think I'll show you how much I love you now. We can eat later and heat the pizza up in the oven." He turned his head and winked at Sebastian.

Sebastian turned Henry around to face him, and began passionately kissing him. He pushed him into a chair and began removing his clothes. "I'm so glad I found you. Screw Carl and those other dopes. They can go gawk at girls through a window. You're better than any of them," he said, his voice rough and filled with arousal.

"You're crazy Sebby, but I love you," Henry told him. Then nothing else was said as the two gave into their desire next to cold sodas and cold pizza.

*****

 Janine's house was dark. Carl and the other boys were standing behind tall shrubbery off to the side of the large manor home, all dressed in black. Little Seb Moran even had grease paint on his cheeks and under his eyes. All were confused and wondering what was going on.

"Are you sure they're having this party tonight?" Jeff whispered.

"I'm sure. Sophie told me it started at six," Tim answered.

"You think she was putting you on?" Marty wondered.

"No, she's not like that." Tim turned his head towards the back of the house. "I don't see Sophie's car anywhere."

"Yeah, I don't see any cars I recognize either. This is weird," Carl said, shaking his head.

Suddenly the side of the house was bathed in bright light. "Someone's gotta be home," Art told his friends. Maybe they're out back."

"They could be at the pool," Tim offered. 

"Let's go see, but remember, quiet and sneaky like burglars," Carl reminded everyone.

The boys started to tiptoe towards the back of the house, inching along the bushes that lined up against the brick exterior. Once they reached the pool, it was completely empty. 

"Something's going on," Marty half-whispered. "This is kinda spooky."

As the boys glanced around, a stream of water shot out from the side of a small cabana and hit Carl directly in the back. "Jesus fucking Christ!" he hollered as icy liquid engulfed him.

The stream shot out again, spraying all the boys, who started running to escape the wet assault. Marty tripped and fell down, nearly falling into the large rectangular pool. "Shit!" he cried.

Tim stooped down to help him, and he got hit again with the water. He fell right on top of the other boy. "Dammit, get off me!" Marty yelled.

As the remaining boys ran around like fools, Janine, Sophie, Mary, Sarah, Jennifer, and Becky Dimmock, who had arrived half an hour before Carl and his friends made their appearance, stepped out from behind the cabana, giggling and laughing. "Serves you right you sex-crazed morons!" Janine called out. 

"Oh, if you could see yourselves!" Mary sputtered in between laughs. "You're hysterical!"

"Idiots!" Jennifer exclaimed. "Don't you have anything better do to on a Saturday night besides spy on us?"

Sophie walked over to Tim, who was now standing on his feet and wringing out his shirt. She crossed her arms and glared at her boyfriend. "You better have a damn good explanation for why you felt this was a good idea Timothy Christopher Carlton. Either way, this little stunt means no nookie for the rest of the month."

Tim's green-blue eyes widened. "Sophie come on! It was just a little harmless prank!"

"Harmless! You call playing perverted Peeping Tom harmless? It's an invasion of privacy!" Sophie yelled, furious.

Janine's mom Barbara, and Linda Stamford walked out from the other side of the cabana. "We could call the police boys," Barbara announced firmly. "What do you think Linda?"

"I think that's a good idea. It would teach you all a lesson. What do you think Susan?"

Susan Powers emerged from behind the cabana, holding a green garden hose, grinning like a Cheshire Cat. "Wouldn't be the first time a Powers was thrown behind bars. "Want to keep up with your dear old dad, do you Carl?"

Carl was flabbergasted. "Mom!" he shrieked. "I can't believe you!"

"Believe it. When you boys get together it usually means trouble. This time I was smart enough to listen in on your latest gathering. So I called Barbara and filled her in on your little plot, and she was more than eager to help me teach you all a lesson." She dropped the hose and placed her hands on her hips. "I suggest you boys head home and stay there. Some phone calls to parents are in order."

Art groaned. "That's just great. I'm grounded for life now."

"Wait Mrs. Powers," Janine said. "I think the boys have suffered enough. They're here, might as well invite them in for some burgers, hot dogs, and fries. We've got enough food."

"You can't be serious!" Jennifer cried.

"Oh I am serious. They wanted so much to be with us tonight, might as well be friendly. But there's a catch. You're all sopping wet and you'll need a change of clothes. I'm sure my mom and I can spare something." She smiled deviously.

"Wait a minute, you want us to wear women's' clothes?" Jeff asked incredulously.

Janine nodded. Becky cackled. "Oh Janine's that's amazing. I love it! I'll take pictures!"

"No way!" Carl yelled. Then he looked at Susan. "Mom!" he whined.

"I think that's a lovely idea Janine. Carl's such a handsome young man, he'll look absolutely ravishing in a nightie," Susan replied, returning Janine's smile.

"I don't care," Little Seb chimed in. "Besides, I'm not passing up free food!" That comment earned chuckles from the ladies.

"Good for you Seb, taking it like a man," Mary praised.

"You have got to be kidding me!" Tim barked. "I'm not doing it!"

"Oh yes you are," Sophie retorted to her boyfriend. "Or do you want your parents to know what a perv you are? You can kiss varsity football goodbye."

Tim's face dropped. Then he narrowed his eyes and looked straight at Barbara and Linda. "You have anything in blue? I've been told that's my best color."

Everyone burst out laughing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We time jump again in the next chapter. John returns to Sherrinford ...but can he avoid Sherlock?
> 
> The last four digits of Sherlock's phone number is Benedict's birthday. :)


	16. Summertime Blues

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John returns to Sherrinford amid preparations for the end-of-summer sock hop. Meanwhile, a maniac lurks...and plots.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a short chapter before we jump to the day of the sock hop, when the serial killer storyline officially kicks off. Who do you think will be the first victim or victims?

It was good to be home, John thought as he put his clothes away, neatly folding shirts and shorts and placing them carefully in his dresser drawer. He had washed all his things at Harry and Clarence's before leaving. He and his mother had already made plans to come back to spend Thanksgiving with them.

John had Sherlock on his mind. He had promised to see him once he got back. He shouldn't have done it, but Sherlock sounded so sad over the phone, and John, being the nice guy he was, gave in. He was probably manipulating him to get what he wanted---John suspected he did that a lot while back in England---but he didn't want to dwell on it. Besides, he could tell Sherlock this would be the last time they would be alone together before school started next Tuesday, and John didn't want to come off as weak and easily played.

Done with his unpacking, John opened up his bedroom window. It was a beautiful afternoon with warm, but not hot, sunshine, with a gentle summer breeze rustling through the air. He took a deep breath, taking in the fresh suburban air. One thing he did not miss about Los Angeles was the smog.

He was grateful that he didn't have to go back into work until Thursday. He was only working that night, Friday night, and Sunday afternoon. Mrs. Hudson was closing the drive-in on Saturday. She and Angelo were going to be chaperones for the sock hop at the community center and all her employees were going. John was planning to go stag. He'd sure to find someone to dance with once he got there.

Janine and Molly had arrived earlier in the day to welcome him back, and catch him up on what happened while he went away. He was in tears with laughter when Janine told him what happened during her slumber party. Carl Powers and his goofy friends came to crash it, but his mother Susan had come and warned everyone ahead of time, so they got back at the boys by spraying them with the hose, and inviting them to eat, but they had to wear either Janine or her mom Barbara's clothes. John howled at seeing the pictures Janine developed of Carl Powers, Marty Freeman, Art Doyle, Tim Carlton, Little Seb Moran, and Jeff Hope in nightgowns and robes. Little Seb also had a green beauty mask on his face too.

The now infamous slumber party had resulted in the surprise coupling of Little Seb and Mary Morstan. Mary had taken pity on him when he revealed he didn't want to actually come, but his dad thought it would be good training for the Army to do a sneak attack. That, combined with his easy acceptance of wearing ladies' pajamas and slathering green goop on his face so he could score free food, endeared him to Mary. The two went to Speedy's the next day for ice cream, and they were going to the sock hop together.

"It's a match made in heaven. He's a soldier's son, she's a cop's daughter, they're both tough as nails---honestly, it should have happened ages ago," Janine had said. I heard Little Seb's dad was over the moon, and Mary's parents said she couldn't do any worse."

Then Janine decided that John needed a date to the sock hop too, despite his vocal protests. He held his ground though, and when he threatened to have Mrs. Hudson switch his and Mike's shifts for Sunday, she backed off.

John lay on his bed and turned on the alarm clock radio, at first deciding to spend the rest of the day at home, but then he decided he didn't want to waste a beautiful afternoon inside, so he got up, closed his window, and made up his mind to go to Regent's Park to feed the ducks and do some reading under the trees. He would bike there instead of driving his car. He needed to have some alone time. And as he walked to the small shed in his backyard to get his bike, his thoughts of Sherlock and the promise he made melted away like a popsicle on a hot sidewalk.

*****

Regent's Park was practically deserted, which suited John just fine. He was sitting under a huge oak tree, reading comic books, his portable radio next to him playing "Summertime Blues" while the afternoon breeze gently caressed his golden tresses. An empty pint of chocolate milk along with an apple core sat next to him. His mother, who had come home as he was leaving, told him she was picking up pizza and salad for dinner, and John told her he would be home by five-thirty.

He could hear ducks quacking in the distance, and somewhere a motorcycle engine roared out. John relished his time alone, as the next few days would be busy. Tomorrow he would be going to Woolworth's with Molly to get some back-to-school clothes, he would be working Thursday and Friday, the sock hop was Saturday, work Sunday, and Labor Day, he would be going to a cookout at Greg Lestrade's home. Then school started Tuesday and with football, homework, not to mention packing to move to his new place at the end of September, it was going to be hectic.

The motorcycle sounded a little closer now. John ignored it and continued to read his comics, singing along to the music on the radio. He was so engrossed that he didn't hear the sound of someone approaching him from behind. He did however, feel a hand oh so tenderly run through his hair. John snapped his head up and around to see Sherlock standing there, looking down at him, joy and longing on his handsome face.

"John," he said softly it almost came out as a whisper.

"Sherlock, what are you doing here? How did you find me?"

"Simple, I just rode around town going to all the places I thought you would be, until I got here. Process of elimination." He frowned at John, icy eyes narrowing. "You promised you'd see me."

"I have a lot on my mind," John simply explained.

"You still promised."

"I don't see why I should hold myself to it, considering what you've done." John returned Sherlock's frosty glare with his own. "I don't owe anything to you."

Sherlock sighed and slid down to the ground beside John. He crossed his long, slim legs, which were clothed in tight dark blue jeans. He wore a fitted white T-shirt and his black boots, but his hair was still in loose curls. The sight made John's stomach twist in a way he didn't want it to. _Get yourself together Watson. You have to tell him to stay away._

"Sherlock, you can sit here and pine all you want. I've told you many times we can't see each other unless it's for school. I don't know why you can't respect that. "

Sherlock looked at him sharply. "Oh don't play Mister Innocent with me John. You want me just as much as I want you." 

"I'm not playing anything. I told you I'm slightly attracted to you but that's it." John turned his head and stared out at trees and grass.

He felt Sherlock's finger stroke his cheek and he shuddered, violently cursing his body for betraying him.

"I'm sorry John. I don't want you to be angry with me." Sherlock now was massaging John's cheek with his knuckles.

John wanted to pry that large, pale hand off of him but he couldn't bring himself to do it. He enjoyed Sherlock's touch way more than he allowed himself to believe. He glanced back at the other boy, who was smiling, and man did Sherlock have a gorgeous smile.

"Look, if I allow you a kiss and a grope---but above the waist---will you promise to stay away until school starts?"

John watched Sherlock contemplate his compromise. He smiled again. "That sounds reasonable." He leaned in and captured John's lips with his, pulling him to his chest.

It was a warm kiss, and John felt Sherlock's tongue trying to push inside his mouth. He allowed it, and he felt himself being pushed back onto the grass as Sherlock was desperately exploring his mouth, as if trying to consume him. He was sure he could taste the sweetness of the chocolate milk and red delicious apple he ate earlier.

John felt his entire body heat up, the lyrics to _You Give Me Fever_ running through his mind. He was burning, burning up for Sherlock. His flesh was quickly turning into an inferno and he needed relief.

It seemed to take all of John's strength to push Sherlock off of him, but he managed to grab fistfuls of Sherlock's shirt and shake him loose. Sherlock was panting hard, his beautiful face flushed a mix of pink and peach. John was also breathing heavily.

"I'm sorry, but that was way too intense. You've got to take it slow," John rasped. "I'm not used to making out like that."

Sherlock leaned back against the tree and ran a hand through his sweaty curls. "That was amazing, he gasped.

John joined him, and Sherlock reached over, placing his hand on top of John's. "You really expect me to stay away from you for the rest of the week when I've kissed you like that? You're like a drug John. One I don't want to stop taking. If you were mine, you'd be my only drug. I wouldn't need pills, or cocaine, or heroin. Just you."

"Please don't compare me to a drug. I'm not one to get addicted on." John looked down into his lap. 

Sherlock pulled John towards him and soon the shorter boy was in his lap. John didn't protest. He was tired, and just wanted to sleep, but he fought it. He laid his head against Sherlock's chest. He felt long fingers massage his scalp, lips pressing kisses to his forehead, a cool hand reaching inside his shirt that started to rub his belly and chest, and heated whispers of "I love you" against his ear.

*****

John awoke to a mass of curls against his nose. Sherlock was also asleep, arms wrapped John's chest, and John was still in his lap. John looked at his watch---it was four thirty. The two had been asleep for nearly two hours. "Sherlock, wake up," John said, shaking him gently.

Sherlock mumbled something unintelligible, and John had to admit he sounded cute doing it. But he promised his mom he'd be home by five-thirty. John untangled Sherlock's long limbs from his body and tried to get up, but Sherlock, now awake, quickly grabbed him and wrapped himself around him again. "No, I don't want you to go." He planted kisses up and down John's neck.

"Sherlock, it's four-thirty. I told Mom I'd be home in an hour for dinner. Let me get up." Sherlock continued to hold him tight to his chest. "Sherlock, I'm not kidding. Please let me go right now."

With a grunt, Sherlock released John, who got up and brushed dirt and grass off his shorts. Sherlock also stood and pulled down his T-shirt, then wasted no time getting John back into his arms. "I wish we could stay here longer. I had a wonderful afternoon with you."

"Yeah, it was pretty nice, I have to admit." John smiled at Sherlock. "But we'll see each other in school. It's not goodbye you know."

"It feels like it to me," Sherlock said, his lips softly brushing against John's forehead.

John laughed. "You sentimental fool."

John extricated himself from Sherlock's embrace, picked up his comic books and trash, and threw them into the basket mounted in front of his bike, which was propped up against the tree across from him. He pulled the bike out and began to walk with it towards the park exit. Sherlock followed him towards his own bike.

Once the two were at the exit, Sherlock reached for John again and placed a hot kiss on his mouth. "I can't wait for next Tuesday. Goodbye angel face."

"Bye Sherlock. Enjoy the rest of your week." John got on his bike and began to ride away. Sherlock soon followed then went in the opposite direction, his mind thinking of nothing but the lovely summer afternoon he spent with the boy he considered his everything.

*****

 Molly, Mary, and Janine were at Janine's house, in her big bedroom. Molly and Mary sat on Janine's queen sized bed watching Janine go through tons of dresses in her closet. Janine was trying to find one to wear for the sock hop on Saturday.

"I want Mike to see me in something I haven't worn in forever," Janine said.

"Well, you've got your pick. You certainly have enough dresses for about fifty sock hops," Mary joked.

"Do you have something to wear yet?" Janine asked her.

"No, but I'm sure I'll find something in our attic. Mom is very sentimental and still has a lot of her old dresses packed away up there from when she used to go to the Friday night dances at the American Legion. They're still in great shape, she told me I could have my pick. "

"And now you've got a date to show it off for!" Janine exclaimed happily.

Mary blushed and Molly smiled at her. Mary was just like their friend John, not looking for a steady relationship, but she was glad she and Little Seb Moran connected. Despite his tough soldier mentality, he was a sweetheart deep down.

"I can't believe how quickly this happened. Seb and I weren't close friends but we talked. He really showed a different side of him at the slumber party."

"He did look cute in that yellow nightgown. It complimented his green eyes," Janine replied, chuckling as she scrutinized a sleeveless lilac chiffon dress with a white bow at the neckline.

"I wish I was there to see it, but I'm glad I went and saw John in LA," Molly said.

"Carl Powers asked about you Molly," Janine said, frowning. "He thinks you're cute."

Molly shivered. "Ugh! I didn't even know he felt that way. I certainly don't feel that way about him!"

"Yeah, he's a roughneck and a bully. No wonder he can't keep a girlfriend," Mary soberly remarked. "I don't know why he's so popular."

"Let's not talk about Carl, what do you think of this dress?" Janine held it up towards Mary and Molly.

Mary nodded in approval. "I love that color. If get married, that's going to be the color of my bridesmaid dresses."

"I like it, it'll look good with your dark hair and olive skin," Molly agreed.

"Well, the lilac it is." Janine smiled and put it back in her closet. "So girls, want to do anything for dinner? Dad's working late and Mom's at a meeting for the sock hop."

"Sorry Janine, but we're going to my grandma's in Gatiss tonight," Mary told her. "Maybe we can do it Friday night? I'm off work."

"I'll go somewhere with you," Molly said happily. "My parents are also at the meeting, and Greg's with Victor helping his dad fix Victor's mom's car, and I don't want to be alone at my house tonight. What did you have in mind?"

 "How about we drive down to the beach and get something on the boardwalk?"

"Sounds good to me. "I'll call my parents at the community center and let them know."

"Well you two have fun, I better get home. Talk to you later." Mary got off the bed and with a wave, left the room.

Janine grabbed Molly's hand. "Come on Molls. Let's hit the beach!"

Molly laughed and the two walked out, ready for some evening fun on the boardwalk.

*****

John and his mom sat at their small kitchen table eating dinner. He told her he fell asleep reading at Regent's Park. She didn't need to know Sherlock showed up, he allowed him to kiss him and he fell asleep tangled up with him. He hoped their afternoon together would be enough for Sherlock and things would get back to normal. He had no idea how wrong he would be, but it had nothing to do with the teen genius...

*****

 The Sherrinford Community Center was bustling with activity. The sock hop meeting had gone extremely well, and some of the women were sorting through boxes of decorations. It had been decided to do a red, black, and white color theme. Black musical notes would be hung from the ceiling, along with red and white balloons with matching streamers. Sylvia Hooper found some red and black tulle to wrap around the poles fixed from the ceiling to the floor.

Dave Tennant, owner of Speedy's, would donate ice cream, soda, syrup, and other fixings for a soda fountain for everyone to enjoy, and Mrs. Hudson would be doing the catering. The local radio station would be providing music and broadcasting live from the event. It was shaping up to be a fun and successful night. 

*****

Outside the community center, a car sat in the far end of the parking lot. The person inside had both hands tightly gripped on the steering wheel, mind filled to the brim with hate and rage. It wouldn't be long now. Just four and a half more days, and they would claim their first victim, with more to come. And finally the good people of Sherrinford would realize they weren't so good anymore. That they were judgmental hypocrites who needed to be taught a lesson. This murder spree was the only way to change narrow-minded idiots. Then maybe things would be right again. It just had to be.

 

 

 

 

 

 


	17. At the Hop

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The back-to-school sock hop sets the stage for the beginning of a nightmare as a killer strikes...

Saturday night was finally here, and many of the good citizens of Sherrinford were getting ready for the sock hop. 

John had showered and was in his bedroom, pulling a pair of dark blue jeans out of his closet. These were his "good pair" he wore for certain occasions. On the bed was a short-sleeved blue and white checkered shirt, and a white wifebeater. He had polished his brown loafers to the best of his ability.

He wanted to look good for his date---Harry. His sister had called Thursday to check in on him and when he mentioned the sock hop, she asked him if he was going with anyone and he said no. So she offered to drive to Sherrinford to go with him, since her husband Clarence was going on a fishing trip with friends and she would be alone this weekend. 

Harry would be arriving in a few minutes so John dried off, sprinkled baby powder on him so he would smell good without having a girly scent on him, got dressed, and ran a wet comb through his hair. He left the bathroom and headed into the living room to wait for his sister.

His mother Wanda wasn't able to chaperone the dance, as she had agreed to watch the Magnussen's two children tonight for some extra cash. When she saw John, she beamed. "You look so handsome Johnny. I hope you have a lot of fun tonight."

"Thanks Mom." He gave her a peck on the cheek. 

The doorbell rang. "That's Harry," John said, going to answer it.

Harry was gorgeously dressed in a white off the shoulder top, navy blue tea-length skirt with white polkadots, and white sandals. Her short blonde hair was adorned with navy barrettes on either side of her head. 

John grinned at her outfit. "Wow Sis, you look great!"

"Thanks. I borrowed the threads from Clarence's sister, seeing as how I never dress like this." She stepped inside and hugged her brother.

"Harry, you're beautiful. If you don't watch it some of those men there will try and run off with you," Wanda teased her daughter.

Harry laughed. "If they do, I'll just show them my wedding ring. Or I'll sic John on them."

"You can count on me," John said.

"Well, we better be off. John, you don't mind driving since you know where this place is?"

John nodded. "Can we go in your car?"

Harry pinched her brother's cheek. "You've been itching to drive my Skylark since last week."

"Yeah, so can I? Pretty please?"

"Well, okay, since you asked nicely."

John raised a fist. "Yes!" He gave his mom another kiss on the cheek. "We're going Mom. I'll be back later."

"Okay honey. You two be careful, and if you need me, you have Charlie's number."

"Bye Mom!" the siblings said in unison and they were out the door.

*****

Henry Knight was lying on the chase lounge in the tastefully decorated living room of the Wilkes mansion, reading Tales from the Crypt comic books. The radio was tuned into the live broadcast of the sock hop. Henry wouldn't have minded going, but he knew Sebastian wasn't interested, and seeing how his mate's parents were out again---his mother at a dinner party in Beverly Hills and his father on a business trip in San Francisco, Sebastian wanted his boyfriend all to himself.

Henry listened to the DJ talk excitedly about the dance contest that would be held later that evening, with the winning couple splitting a prize of $100 to spend at Montgomery Ward's. He thought about how nice it would be to have fifty dollars to do what he pleased with, even though Sebastian's parents provided for all his needs. "You won't have to want for anything," he remembered Gloria Wilkes telling him after he moved in. "Richard and I are thrilled Sebastian found you."

Henry would always offer to help out around the house so he wouldn't feel like a freeloader, but the Wilkes kept turning him down, telling him he was family. But from time to time he would make dinner and clean on the servants' days off. He discovered he was a pretty decent cook.

Henry was nearly finished his comic when Sebastian walked into the room. The older boy grinned madly upon seeing his boyfriend. "Hey babe," he called to him.

Henry looked up and smiled. "Hi Sebby."

Sebastian walked over to Henry and slowly lowered himself down on top of the smaller boy, pressing kisses to his forehead, cheeks and finally lips. He deepened the kiss, his tongue slowly working its way into Henry's mouth. Henry let go of his comic, allowing it to fall to the floor, and he wrapped his arms around Sebastian's back, his hands going down to his backside. He grabbed Sebastian's butt and began to squeeze it.

"Oh God, don't stop," Sebastian moaned, mouth moving to Henry's neck.

"You sure you don't want to go to the sock hop, just for a little while?" Henry asked.

Sebastian frowned at his boyfriend. "I'm sure. Who needs some corny dance when we can be here in this big house all weekend, just the two of us? Besides," he paused to press a kiss to Henry's jaw, "my moves are much better and more satisfying."

Henry laughed and kissed Sebastian's nose. "I love you."

"I love you too." Sebastian latched his mouth onto Henry's and began undoing the younger boy's jeans, loving the feel of Henry shuddering underneath him. They didn't need a silly sock hop, they just needed each other. And their decision to stay home would eventually keep them alive and away from the terror that would strike later that night.

*****

John walked into the community center's main hall with Harry. He took in the decorations with an appreciative eye. "Looks great, doesn't it?" he asked his sister.

"Yeah, they did a pretty good job." Harry spotted the soda fountain and squealed. "Oh cool---look John! We can get root beer floats!" 

John looked in her direction and laughed. "Yeah we can." He was just glad it was soda and ice cream that Harry wanted, and not beer.

"John!" Molly's voice called from off to the side. She and Greg approached their friend and Harry.

"Hey Molls! Greg!" John happily replied. "You two look good."

Molly was wearing a sunny yellow short-sleeved shirt dress with a cinched waist and attached matching belt. Her brown hair was down, the ends curled up into flips, and she wore a yellow headband. Her shoes were also yellow, Mary-Janes with kitten heel pumps. Greg had on a white button-down dress shirt and khaki pants with brown loafers.

"You look handsome John. "Harry, it's good to see you again!" Molly said, hugging his sister. "You look gorgeous."

"Thank you. I'm actually looking forward to tonight. Clarence is away fishing with some friends and I didn't want to be alone all weekend." 

"You all want to get something to drink?" Greg asked everyone.

"Yeah, sounds good. Harry's been craving a root beer float," John said, chuckling.

"That sounds yummy, let's go!" Molly said, and the foursome made their way to the soda fountain.

*****

More and more people started coming in. Janine, in her lilac dress with Mike, wearing a brown sweater vest over a white long sleeved shirt and brown trousers; Mary, clad in one of her mother's dresses, a lovely red cap sleeve silk skater with black pumps, escorted by Little Seb, wearing a red short-sleeved shirt and black jeans, some of the other cheerleaders from Culverton Smith High and their dates, and Mrs. Hudson and Angelo. Mrs. Hudson had on a dark purple dress with a matching bow on the hip, and her signature red heels. 

It wasn't long before mingling groups formed and tables were quickly filled. The sock hop was to start promptly at seven. At the other end of the hall directly across from the entrance, DJ Billy Wiggins from radio station KMOF was interviewing Dave Tennant and his wife Donna, owner of Speedy's Ice Cream Parlor.

Billy was a medium-built, thin young man with cropped brown hair, sleepy blue eyes, and wore a beard that was neatly trimmed. Dave was taller, just as thin, with brown hair combed into a duck tail, and had dark brown eyes. He was wearing a shirt that advertised his business and blue jeans. He could easily be mistaken for one of the teens, but he was about to turn 40 this October. Donna Tennant was a curvy redhead with a peaches and cream complexion, who had a reputation for being outspoken, but had a good heart and would do anything for anybody.

Another couple had now entered the hall, and when Janine saw who it was, she gasped loudly. Others heard her and turned to see Eurus Holmes and Jim Moriarty, arm in arm, both sporting cheeky smiles.

There was a collective murmur across the room upon seeing the young girl and her date. Not just because of her quickly earned reputation as a strange eccentric, but truth be told, she was absolutely breathtaking. She had on a sleeveless black and white damask print dress, black open toed pumps, and her dark hair was pinned up in a bun, with a white gardenia tucked into it. Jim had on a sleek black suit and a crisp white shirt with a black tie. The two looked like they were going to a cocktail party rather than a sock hop.

"I can't believe she showed up here!" Janine whispered heatedly to Mike, Mary, Little Seb, Sophie Hunter and her boyfriend Tim Carlton, Sarah Sawyer and her boyfriend Bill Murray. 

"She's crazy and I can't believe Jimmy actually wants to date her," Little Seb hissed, the image of a smirking Eurus with that bloody switchblade still echoed freshly in his mind.

"I know, but she has the right to come here just like everyone else," Mary ruefully pointed out.

"Do you think the rest of her creepy siblings will show up?" Mike wondered.

Janine frowned and pursed her lips. "I don't know, but for Molly and John's sake I hope not."

*****

"Sherlock, where on earth do you think you're going tonight?" Mycroft asked, scrunching up his nose.

"I'm heading to the sock hop at the community center brother mine," Sherlock answered in a tone that implied Mycroft was stupid for even asking.

"Why would you want to go to something so...pedestrian?" Mycroft made a face that looked like he sucked on a sour lemon.

"Because I want to, okay?" Sherlock narrowed his eyes and continued to primp himself in front of his bedroom mirror.

"John Watson is going to be there isn't he? I thought he made it clear he didn't want to see you until the beginning of school on Tuesday," Mycroft haughtily replied.

"That's what his head says, but his heart is speaking a different language, especially after what happened yesterday at Regent's Park." 

"You really think you're just going to walk in there and be able to get to John without his friends impeding you and making sure that won't happen?" 

"To be blunt Mycroft---yes." Sherlock smirked at his brother.

Mycroft did a facepalm. "It's bad enough Eurus is there with Jim, imagine the reaction when you saunter in. The entire town knows you're a near-rapist."

Sherlock snorted. "You've no room to talk, you're stalking Molly Hooper. And how come you're not going down there and trying to get her away from George, or Gerry, or whatever the hell her boyfriend's name is."

"Because I'm not going to lower myself by publicly pursuing Molly at a god forsaken community center," Mycroft huffed.

Sherlock laughed bitterly. "And that's why you're going to end up being alone. If you dropped your snobbish and condescending attitude, you may get somewhere."

He gave himself a final once over, satisfied at his appearance. He wore a light gray sweater over top a pale blue short-sleeved collared shirt, with snug black jeans and his boots, dark hair loose and relaxed. "I'm taking the Aston-Martin. Don't wait up." He gave a knowing grin to his brother and flounced out of the room. Mycroft could only shake his head. This was sure to end in heartbreak for Sherlock.

*****

The dance was in full swing, "At the Hop" by Danny and the Juniors playing from the massive speakers. John was dancing with Harry, Molly, Greg, Janine, Mike, Mary and Little Seb. Mrs. Hudson was showing off her moves with Angelo. Some of the adults were up bopping to the music as well. Eurus and Jim were sitting alone at a table, sipping on cherry Cokes, waiting for a slow number to come on.

Victor Trevor, his brother Vincent, Vincent's girlfriend Amy Williams, and Amy's sister Melody walked through the doors. "Hey, there's John," Victor said, making a beeline for his friend. Vincent, Amy and Melody followed and joined the group on the dance floor. John grinned when he saw his friend.

******

The car sat parked on a side street a few blocks away from the community center, radio tuned into the sock hop broadcast. The person in the vehicle gripped the steering wheel tightly, anger boiling inside like a pot of bubbling water on a stove. All the hypocrites were inside having fun, dancing their cares away. It wouldn't be long before dancing turned to screaming, and the real fun would begin.

*****

Sherlock sat inside the car in the community center parking lot. It wasn't that long ago that he left his house, confident about making his entrance in the sock hop, but now he was beginning to feel hesitant, and his stomach began to feel like it was full of knots. But he had to see John. He was worth the risk.

It must have been fate, or the stars aligning at the right time, because none other than John appeared outside the building, wiping his forehead. Sherlock saw him and his heart about burst out of his chest. It was now or never. He jumped out of the car and sprinted towards John.

John couldn't believe his eyes when he saw Sherlock running to him. John silently had to admit he looked beautiful. He knew he should go back inside, but then Sherlock would follow and everyone would start talking, and he didn't want that. So he stood where he was.

Sherlock finally made it, and he stood right in front him, a dreamy look on his handsome face. "John," he simply said.

"Hi Sherlock. You look great," John replied, somewhat sheepish.

"So do you." Sherlock leaned in, lips puckered, desperately wanting to kiss him.

John held his hands out. "Wait, not here, not now."

Sherlock frowned. "Why?"

"My sister's here. If she comes looking for me and sees you, we're both done for."

"My sister's here too, so that makes us even." Sherlock smiled at John.

"Yeah I know. She made quite the entrance with Jim." 

Sherlock was about to reply, but then he heard a rustling sound in the distance. "What was that sound?"

"The wind?" John answered.

Sherlock shook his head. "No, it's not the wind, the air's been still all evening. Someone's out there."

John moved to scope out the parking lot. He saw nothing but a sea of cars. "Hmm, I don't see anyone, but that doesn't mean someone's skulking around. Maybe we should go inside and I'll let Officer Morstan know. We don't need trouble here."

"Aren't you worried about the reaction if people see us walk in together?" Sherlock asked John pointedly.

"Right now I'm more worried about some unknown prowling around the community center," John replied tersely. "Let's go."

*****

_That Watson brat knew. He knew I was scoping things out, looking for my first. I should get him, but no, I've got to be patient and save the best for last. I've got to leave and lay low, and then come back later so everyone's guard will be down. Yes, I just have to wait it out, I've been doing it so long, what's another couple of hours?_

*****

Sherlock was sitting with his sister and Jim. When he walked in with John, he knew John's friends were shocked, and his sister was shooting daggers at him. But John explained he met Sherlock while outside cooling off, the two heard what they felt was someone prowling around, and John went to tell Dave Morstan. Everyone accepted the story, and Mary's dad, along with Robert Lestrade and Angelo, were checking out the grounds to make sure everything was fine. John was sitting with Harry and some of his friends and they were eating. He had no plans to speak to Sherlock for the rest of the evening. But the atmosphere was not as relaxed as it was earlier, now that a supposed stranger was possibly lurking outside. 

A short time later, Officer Morstan, Robert, and Angelo returned, announcing the all clear. Everyone felt much better, and things went back to normal.

Nobody knew normal would end before the night was over.

*****

It was nine-thirty, thirty minutes before the sock hop was over. Some had already left for home. John was slow dancing with Melody Williams. 

Sherlock stared at John and his partner with a longing look in his eyes, wishing it was him in John's arms. Eurus saw her brother's expression and smirked. "You're adorable when you're pining."

"Shut up Eurus."

"The night's not over Sherlock. You can still be with your little John. He's only dancing with that girl as a favor to his friend. He doesn't have any romantic interest in her."

"I know that. I still don't like it." Sherlock sat back and pouted.

"As much as I'd like to sit here and watch you do a slow burn for your golden boy, Jim and I have other plans." She leaned over and planted a kiss on her brother's cheek. "Until next time big brother." She got up and smoothed down her dress, leaving Sherlock alone. When she was out of sight, he wiped the wet spot on his cheekbone where Eurus had pecked him. It was probably a good idea for him to leave too. John hadn't talked to him all night, and he had felt out of place the entire time. He also stood up and began to head for the doors, the only other thing on his mind beside John was getting home and to the safe space of his bedroom.

*****

As Sherlock walked towards the entrance, suddenly the doors flew open. A young man fell to the floor, covered in blood, holding his stomach with both hands, a crimson stream flowing from between his fingers. 

Several women started screaming. Officer Morstan and some of the men raced towards the boy. Sherlock just stood there in shock.

"Jesus Christ, it's Phillip Anderson!" Morstan yelled. He knelt down beside him. "Call for an ambulance!" he yelled out. Angelo nodded and ran to find a phone.

"What happened?" the cop asked Anderson.

Anderson was breathing heavy. He was in tremendous pain, and he felt like his insides were going to spill out of his body. "Sally and I---we---were in the car---in the parking lot. I was about to start the car when he suddenly appeared---all in black---this horrible mask---he had a butcher knife. Sally screamed and I tried to get away but he was quick---he sliced my stomach and then he went for Sally---and oh God oh God...Sally!" 

With a strangled, tortured cry, Anderson fell back on the floor. Within seconds, he was gone. Bright red blood continued to pour out of him.

Angelo came back, and grimaced at the sight. "I called 911, but I guess it's too late."

Officer Morstan nodded. "Yes, he's dead. I'd better call the station and get Sholto and the other cops down here." He stood up and turned towards the crowd, shocked and frightened looks on their faces.

"Okay folks. I suggest you sit back down and prepare for a long night, because nobody is leaving this building."

He ignored the murmurs and heated whispers and turned his attention back to the dead boy on the floor. Why would anyone want to hurt him and his girlfriend? Who would commit such a horrendous act? Was it the mystery prowler John and Sherlock heard earlier?

So many questions...and he realized things were never going to be the same again.

*****

_Tonight was good. It was more than good, it was spectacular. Although Phillip Anderson and Sally Donovan weren't his first choices, it was just too convenient. The two were parked at the community center and were getting ready to leave. It was perfect. Everyone would suspect it was a racially motivated murder because Sally was black and Phillip was white. But it wasn't about race. That was unimportant. It was about bringing this hypocritical town to its knees...and the two teens' murders was just the beginning. The purge was on._

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Goodbye Donovan and Anderson, we hardly knew you. 
> 
> Dave Tennant's wife is meant to be none other than Donna Noble. Sorry peeps, not a Rose Tyler fan!
> 
> There will be more prominent character deaths as the story continues. And Victor is not the murderer, I want to keep him a nice guy. But there are a lot of other good suspects so keep reading!


	18. Intermission - Sock Hop Fashions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Before we get back into the story I'd thought it would be fun to post the dresses some of the girls wore, plus a bonus teen Sherlock.

Mrs. Hudson's dress, which is more conservative since she's older, but still has a little fun and sass to it:

 

Molly's dress (middle one) inspired by the yellow dress she wore in The Sign of Three. I think she would definitely wear this if she were a sixteen year-old back in 1961. It's prim and proper but cute.

Mary's dress is a bit va-va-voom but still age-appropriate. It is a 1940's period dress, and something I would wear myself:

 

Eurus' dress, I had to have the damask print make it's appearance somewhere!

Janine's dress, just picture it with a white bow at the neckline:

And finally, here's young Sherlock with his gray sweater...gorgeous!


	19. Tears On My Pillow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's the day after the brutal murders of Sally Donovan and Phillip Anderson, and the town is in a panic. Sherlock visits John, who doesn't believe the murders were racially motivated. His theory is proven right when the maniac calls into Billy Wiggins' radio show, threatening more mayhem.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter mentions racism and thoughts on interracial romance.

The skies over Sherrinford were gray and gloomy. Heavy rain appeared to be on the horizon and it had turned cooler. The weather was matching the mood of the town, as if it knew the terrifying tragedy that happened the night before.

John still couldn't believe what happened. One minute he was slow dancing with Melody Williams and the next minute Phillip Anderson came crashing through the doors, all covered in blood and sputtering out a frightening story of a masked psycho dressed all in black who sliced him and his girlfriend Sally Donovan up. Then he died.

The police had been called, and with their help, Officer Dave Morstan contained everyone at the scene and roped off the parking lot. Phillip and Sally's bodies were removed and taken to the morgue for autopsy. DJ Billy Wiggins continued his live broadcast, interviewing everyone. John and Sherlock told their story about them being outside and hearing what they believed to be a prowler, and that Officer Morstan, Angelo, and Robert Lestrade had checked the grounds and found nobody. Now people were wondering if this unseen prowler returned and committed murder.

The couple weren't robbed, and Sally wasn't raped. Someone had just shown up with a butcher knife, surprised the two in their car, and nearly hacked them to pieces. Because of the current evidence, the speculation was that the killings were racially motivated since Sally was black and Phillip white. 

John didn't believe that theory. He wasn't sure why, but he felt it was too easy a motive. He was sure the unseen prowler was the killer, and he felt that the person responsible had planned to do this, and Sally and Phillip were chosen because they were alone in a dark place. Anyone there could have been a victim. Whoever did this wanted to kill simply because they wanted to, and skin color didn't matter. He wasn't going to rush to tell the police what he felt. They wouldn't take stock in a sixteen year-old. He knew until something else came up, the belief that it was racial would stay.

John hadn't been close with the now-deceased couple due to them being older, but they were nice. He would talk to them while waiting on them at The Big H. Phillip had told him they were together for five years, and at first their families were against them dating, until he had saved Sally from some Ku Klux Klan members who cornered her while she walked home from school. After that, the parents gave them their blessing to continue to the relationship. Every now and then they would get grief from those who didn't approve, but they didn't care. They were madly in love, and nothing would ever separate them.

Until now.

Until a maniac with a butcher knife slashed those dreams and separated them forever.

John was lying on his bed, listening to KMOF. The DJ on the air, Steve Conan, was replaying Billy Wiggins' broadcast from last night. All the radio stations surrounding Sherrinford were reporting on the brutal double murder. Clarence had called from Los Angeles to say it was also the talk of his neighborhood there, and he heard John's interview on the air.

The police, along with the mayor of Sherrinford, Jack Harkness, had placed a curfew on the town. Everyone had to be in by nine p.m. or they would face fines and/or jail time. Cops would share shifts patrolling the streets during curfew.

There was concern with school starting and after-school activities. John wondered if the football games would be canceled, but the decision was that the football games and any dances would go on, but with police presence. Of course, there was huge hope the killer would either be caught by then. There was even huger hope that the killer wasn't even from Sherrinford, and had left town. For some reason, John had a feeling in his gut was a resident, and the killer had chosen the sock hop as the deliberate location to strike.

John's bedroom door opened. It was his mom. "John, I hate to leave you alone, but I've got to go to Vons to get some groceries so I can make your school lunches, and we're out of milk and jam. I'll be back in a couple of hours. Lock the door and don't let anyone in, you hear?"

He nodded. "Don't worry, I'm not going anywhere. It's a good thing Mrs. Hudson kept The Big H closed and isn't re-opening until the day of school, but the bad part is I'll have less money on my paycheck."

"I'd rather have you safe with less money than dead with more," Wanda seriously replied.

 John got up to hug his mom. "I know."

Wanda glanced at the radio. "Oh Johnny, please don't tell me you're listening to that broadcast of the murders. It's only going to give you bad dreams tonight."

"All the stations are playing it. I'll just put on some records instead."

Wanda smiled. "That's better." She glanced at her watch. "I'd better get going. I want to be home and safe inside before it gets dark." She kissed John on the cheek. "Now remember what I said."

"I will Mom. See you soon."

"I'll pick up some fried chicken and potato salad for dinner. How does that sound?"

"It sounds great Mom. See you in a bit."

Wanda smiled and left the room. Then a loud rumble of thunder sliced through the air, and John shivered a little. _This summer has gone straight to hell, he sadly thought._

Seconds later he heard a rap on his window, which made him jump. He stood there, petrified. Then the rapping sound again. John frantically searched around for a weapon, and rushed to his closet to get out his baseball bat. Whoever was outside was in for a good bashing.

John slowly went to the window, bat in right hand, while he lifted the curtain with his left. He breathed a big sigh of relief when he saw Sherlock standing outside. John unlatched the window and Sherlock climbed in. "What are you doing here, and why did you come to my window instead of the front door?" he scolded.

"Do you think I would have been able to come in your house if I was at the front door and your mother answered it?" Sherlock retorted, shaking his head. 

John blushed a little, feeling foolish. "Oh yeah, I forgot. I'm sorry." He sat the bat against the wall. 

Sherlock chuckled darkly. "Were you expecting the murderer?"

"Hey, don't make fun of me. I'm being cautious."

"I'm sorry John." Sherlock took him in his arms and held him close. "I've been worried about you all day, I had to come and make sure you were safe."

John allowed the hug, as he truly felt secure in Sherlock's embrace. Two were better than one against a crazed killer anyway.

John looked up at Sherlock. "Thanks for coming over. How are you holding up?"

"I'm okay. My parents are scared of course, and so is Mycroft, even though he won't admit it. Eurus thinks all of this is fun, and she's been coming up with theories all day. Normally I would too, but this is different. The raw brutality of the crime and the fact that you were alone out there before I came up to you..." Sherlock stopped talking and pressed his lips to John, catching him in a soft, tender kiss.

Once the kiss was done, John reached up and ruffled Sherlock's hair. "Yeah, looking back, it's scary to think what we heard could have been the killer scoping the place out looking for a victim. But I'm safe, so are you, and we have to have faith in the police that they'll catch this nut."

Sherlock snorted. "Faith in the police is not what I have John. They have nothing to go on except for that asinine theory that Sally Donovan and Phillip Anderson were murdered because of their race."

"So you don't believe that either?" John was surprised.

Sherlock raised his eyebrows. "What's your theory John?"

John sat on his bed, and Sherlock sat next to him. He turned off the radio. "I think this person just wanted to kill someone, and they didn't care who it was or what color they were. It wasn't a robbery, nothing was taken. Unfortunately, Sally and Phillip were in the wrong place at the wrong time. The killer would have chosen anyone alone in that parking lot, where they would be alone and unguarded."

Sherlock was impressed at John's deduction. "Have you told the police?"

This time John snorted. "No and I'm not going to. They won't listen to a teenager."

"I could tell them."

John looked at Sherlock in disbelief. "If they won't listen to me, they certainly won't listen to you."

Sherlock narrowed his eyes. "Why not?"

John rolled his eyes. "Uh, do you remember what happened in this room two weeks ago?"

Sherlock's face fell. "Yes, I see your point. So what do we do, wait for the murderer to strike again?

"Can we be certain it'll happen again?"

Sherlock shook his head. "No John, I have a feeling Sally and Phillip's murders are just the beginning. There will be more victims, I can feel it."

"That's a frightening thought Sherlock."

Sherlock put his arm around John and pulled him close. "It certainly is. But let's forget about all of this for a while. When does your mother come back?"

"She said she'll be back in two hours."

A wolfish grin appeared on Sherlock's lips. "Then let's make the most of these two hours." He surged forward to kiss John, but the blond boy backed away. "I'm not in the mood for heavy necking."

Sherlock pouted but John laughed. "I'll put on some records. Wanna dance?" He smiled knowingly at Sherlock. "I saw you watching me last night with Melody and I knew you were jealous. So I'm going to make up for that."

Sherlock jumped off the bed, eager to have John back in his arms again. "Yes John. Please make it up to me."

John went to his record player, picked out a disc, and put it on the needle. The music started up. John went to Sherlock and the two were back in each other's arms, swaying to the romantic ballad, "Tears on My Pillow" by Little Anthony and the Imperials.

_You don't remember me_

_But I remember you_

_'Twas not so long ago_

_You broke my heart in two_

_Tears on my pillow_

_Pain in my heart_

_Caused by you..._

Then the rain began to fall.

*****

Billy Wiggins was sitting at the dashboard spinning records, trying to bring some sense of normalcy to whoever was listening, but he had gotten so many requests to play his sock hop broadcast again, from the beginning to the end, that he announced on the air he would be doing it at 9:00 pm, when curfew began. 

He was still shocked from it all. Everyone was having a good time dancing, or chatting with friends. By the time nine-thirty rolled around, many people had already left, most of them adults. He had announced the dance contest winners ----Martha Hudson and Angelo Capaldi--and the two donated the prize money to the community center for next year's sock hop. He was standing at his booth, watching people dance---and then everything went to hell.

He knew if he started reporting live at the scene, he could do a huge favor to the police and the town. Maybe someone had seen or heard something. Then when John Watson and Sherlock Holmes mentioned hearing someone outside a couple of hours earlier, that's when it begun to sink in for everyone that perhaps the killer had been outside all night, waiting for the moment to strike. 

The owner of KMOF, Steven Moffat, had been listening at home, and had called him earlier today and told him he was so proud of the broadcast, he was giving him a raise and a promotion to the morning shift. Billy accepted the raise, but he told Mr. Moffat he enjoyed working the night shift---and with a killer on the loose, he felt safe at the station instead of at home. He had an engineer working with him, Gene Hunt, so he wasn't alone. 

Billy looked up at the clock. It was eight-thirty. Thirty more minutes to curfew and replaying the sock hop broadcast. There was weird tension in the air tonight, he could feel it rendering in his bones. He had this hunch that something was about to happen, but he didn't know what.

Gene spoke to him through his headphones. "Hey Billy. We've got a caller on line one, and I'm not sure if it's a woman or a man, but it sounds really creepy. I think we should record it and play it back."

The hairs on the back of Billy's neck stood up. It appeared his hunch was playing out. "Okay Gene. Put the caller through." He composed himself as Gene turned down the music and turned up his mic. He gave Billy the sign to begin speaking.

"Good evening, KMOF, Billy Wiggins."

He could hear heavy breathing, and Billy waited, trying hard not to shake.

"Hello Billy." The voice was low and whispery, and was very sinister sounding.

"Yes, how can I help you tonight?"

"I hear you're playing last night's broadcast of the sock hop."

"Yes I am. Is that what you wanted to talk about?"

The voice cackled, and this time Billy did shake, but he quickly fought it off as he waited for the caller to respond.

"Good. I want to relive last night over and over and over again. It felt so good taking those hypocrites' lives."

Billy and Gene exchanged glances. Could this be the killer, or a random creep with a morbid sense of humor?

"You killed Sally Donovan and Phillip Anderson?"

"Yes. You should have seen them beg for their lives, the cowards."

"How can I be sure you're the one that killed them? How do I know you're not some joker?"

"I'm not a joker!" the voice hissed furiously. "I killed them! I stabbed them and stabbed them until there was nothing but red! Beautiful, bright, wet, red, running all over their stupid flesh."

Billy's stomach lurched, but he remained calm. "Why did you do it? The police feel it was because Sally was black and Phillip was white. Do you have something against interracial dating?"

"No." The voice was firm and adamant. "I didn't care what color they were. It bears no importance. I'm not racist. I'm not a hypocrite, unlike others in this town. I did it because I'm sending a very clear and important message to the good citizens of Sherrinford."

Billy swallowed heavily. _Keep it together Wiggins, keep it together._ "What is your message? What do you want the citizens of Sherrinford to know?"

There was a bit of silence before the killer spoke again.  "I want them to know to stop being judgmental fools. I want them to stop trying to interfere in others' private lives. I want them to mind their own business. And if I have to shed blood to get them to do it, well that's their problem. But I'm warning you and everyone else in town now---more people will die, until the hypocrisy stops, until people are allowed to love who they love, without fear and hate."

Billy quickly started to put things together. "So you killed Sally and Phillip because they were in love, and despite being two different races, they were allowed to be together? Did someone not allow you to be with the person you wanted? Is that it? Are you getting back at people who judged you?"

More silence. Then, "You're getting very warm Billy."

"You do realize I'll be playing this call on the air."

The voice laughed, and it sent chills down the DJ's spine. "Of course. I wouldn't think you'd keep this private. I want you to play our little conversation. We're going to have more of them. You're a good man Billy, I'm going to make you famous."

"I don't need this kind of fame," Billy replied soberly. 

"What do you need then?" the voice challenged.

"For you to stop. You don't need to take any more lives. Think of Sally and Phillip's parents. Think of others you're hurting. This town is afraid."

"They should be. And I'm not going to stop until things change."

"You'll be caught. You can't go on killing forever."

"Well then, until I'm caught, I'll continue to take more lives. You and everyone else have been warned. No one is safe...no one."

The killer promptly hung up. Billy sat back and let out a long, drawn out breath. His nerves were on edge.

Gene spoke up again. "Jesus Christ. Was that really the killer?"

Billy nodded. "I think so Gene. I don't think it's someone playing around for weird kicks." He glanced up at the clock. It wouldn't be long before the re-broadcast began. "Before we start last night's show, play the call. If someone recognizes the voice, we'll tell them to call the police. Lives are at stake."

*****

 It seemed as if time stood still in Sherrinford. Billy was playing the killer's call to the station, and Officer Dave Morstan was listening intently. The killer had disguised their voice, and he didn't recognize who it was. But now he knew it wasn't a race crime. Someone was playing avenging angel. But who was being avenged, and why? All he knew is that he and the Sherrinford police force had to catch this psycho before someone else ended up dead, and it wasn't going to be easy. Anyone could be on the killer's hit list.

*****

John and his mother were listening as well. Wanda was shaking, and John had an arm around her. So his theory about the murders not being racially motivated was correct, but his idea that it was a random stranger who just wanted to kill was also wrong. The fact that it might be someone he knew, and this someone was trying to send a message was more frightening than a maniac passing through town. 

*****

The Holmes siblings were also tuned in. Eurus was practically having an orgasm about the whole thing (of course she would, she'd probably want to team up with the killer, giving her an excuse to snuff out someone else's life), Mycroft was disturbed, and Sherlock was trying to think of what the killer wanted to avenge while at the same time flashing back to his evening with John in his bedroom, dancing and sharing kisses, and John had made no attempt to push him away. Sherlock really didn't want to have this line of thinking, but if these killings were the catalyst to bring him and John together for good, so be it.

*****

The knife had been cleaned, sharpened and put away, but it wouldn't be long before it was used again. The killer reveled in hearing the phone call played on the air at KMOF. Now everyone knew this wasn't going to be a one-time fluke, and blood would spill.

Murderous thoughts were shoved aside when a voice called to them to come downstairs, the sock hop broadcast was going to be played again. The killer smiled, then the mask of sanity slipped back on as the stairs were in sight.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm thinking of revealing the killer partway through this storyline, but I wanted to see what others felt. Do you want to know early, or reveal right at the end? Tell me what you think!


	20. Bewitched, Bothered, and Bewildered

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sally Donovan is described as colored, because that was one of the "friendlier" terms used towards African-Americans in the 1960's.

_Sherrinford Strand Morning Edition_

_September 4, 1961_

**SOCK HOP SLAUGHTER**

**_Kitty Reilly_ **

The Sherrinford Community Center was the scene for mayhem last Saturday night when an unknown maniac fatally and brutally stabbed two attendees of the annual Back-To-School Sock Hop.

The victims were Phillip Warren Anderson, age 20, and his girlfriend, Sally Mae Donovan, age 19, both Sherrinford residents. According to witnesses and the final words of Mr. Anderson, the young man stumbled into the main hall at nine-thirty p.m. covered in blood, and said he and his girlfriend had been viciously attacked by a person dressed in all black, wearing a mask and clutching a butcher knife. After making his statement, Mr. Anderson collapsed and expired.

Officer Dave Morstan of the Sherrinford Police Department promptly contained the scene and the witnesses, collecting interviews. None saw or heard anything out of the ordinary, but two teenagers, John H. Watson, age 16, and W. Sherlock Scott Holmes, also age 16, reported they were talking outside at the entrance around eight-twenty p.m. when they heard "a rustling sound" that appeared to come from the side of the building. The two scanned the parking lot but saw or heard nothing after that, and went back inside to tell Officer Morstan, one of the chaperones. Officer Morstan, along with two other chaperones, Robert Lestrade and Angelo Capaldi, did a patrol of the grounds and found nothing out-of-place.

Officer Morstan speculates the killer may have left and then returned to commit the murders. It was also speculated in the beginning that the murders may have been spurned by racial hatred, as Mr. Anderson was white and Ms. Donovan was colored. However, that theory proved false when a mystery person claiming to be the killer called radio station KMOF last night during DJ Billy Wiggins' show, stating the killings were not a result of racism, but revenge for a supposed "wrong" the killer has suffered, and has threatened to commit more murders.

Because of the killings, mayor Jack Harkness and the police department have imposed a nine p.m. curfew for all citizens effective immediately, with an exemption for employees who are scheduled to work mandatory night shifts, such as doctors, nurses, ambulance drivers, firemen, restaurant workers, delivery drivers, and factory workers. Police will do nightly patrols, and will also be present at all evening school activities. 

"It is important that residents go on with their daily lives but to remain cautious at all times, especially at night. Although the curfew exempts certain employees, businesses whose employees work night shifts should try to provide extra security and/or adjust work schedules for safety," Mayor Harkness said during an interview Sunday morning at City Hall.

A town hall meeting to discuss town safety will take place on Wednesday, September 6th at Sherrinford Community Church, located at 935 Hiddleston Street. The meeting will start at 6:00 and everyone is encouraged to attend. 

*****

Wanda Watson sat the newspaper down on the kitchen table and sighed, wondering what was happening to this lovely little town. She left Los Angeles thinking settling into a small town would be safer, and now a masked lunatic was on the loose. _You're not safe anywhere these days,_ she bitterly thought to herself.

Then John told her that Sherlock had come to the house Sunday after she left for the grocery store and he stayed for almost two hours. She should have been furious, but part of her actually felt good that John wasn't alone. Nothing had happened, they had listened to records and danced (although John conveniently left out the dancing was slow dancing, and the two had made out). And since Sherlock was at the dance with John and the two had supposedly heard the killer, she was even more relieved John wasn't alone when he was outside. She shuddered to think what would have happened if John had stayed outside sooner. 

Wanda hated to think it would have been better if the killer stabbed Phillip and Sally because he was racist, and not because they were in love and that enraged him. Now anyone was a target. But she couldn't hole herself up in her house and not go out. She had a job to go to. She was moving in a few weeks to a new apartment. Her weekly bridge club moved their games to Sunday afternoons after church instead of at night. And John had football practice after school, games to compete in, and his job at The Big H. Mrs. Hudson had to adjust her hours because of the curfew, so John would be working nights after school when he didn't have practice, and some weekends from four p.m. to eight p.m. She couldn't expect him to stop all his activities because of some nut. They had to show this creep he was not going to have them running scared.

Still, she was dipping into her savings to purchase a gun. She hated them, but until this killer was caught, she needed to protect herself.  Her children had already lost one parent, they weren't going to lose another.

*****

Shirley Lestrade was going through her checklist for this afternoon's Labor Day cookout. She and her husband Robert decided they were still having it. They weren't going to let the psychopath on the loose ruin their plans. They needed to be as normal as possible, and Greg would have been disappointed if it had been cancelled. Besides, it was good to have all of Greg's friends around and together, and not home or somewhere else where they could be more vulnerable. It was still hard to believe Phillip Anderson and Sally Donovan had been so brutally killed and she would no longer see the couple around town, holding hands and saying hello to Sally when she spotted her working downtown at Ventham's Pharmacy. 

She felt strong arms wrap around her, and she smiled knowing it was her husband. "Hi honey," she sweetly greeted him.

Robert softly kissed her on the back of neck. "Hi sweetheart. Holding up okay?"

"As much as to be expected. How's Greg?"

"He's shaken up, but he'll be okay. He doesn't want to go to school tomorrow, but I told him it would be good for him to do it. They're only doing a half day tomorrow so the kids will be out at noon. There's going to be an assembly at ten about school safety and the changes regarding football games and the Homecoming Dance."

"Oh Robert, I hope the police catch this maniac before Homecoming, that's a month away," Shirley lamented.

Robert hugged his wife tighter. "I know sweetheart. I hope they catch him too."

*****

Greg was in the family room talking to his girlfriend Molly Hooper. "Dad told me school is only a half day tomorrow."

"Because of the murders?" Molly asked.

"Yeah. They're doing some assembly about how what the school is doing as far as games and Homecoming, and school safety."

"It's going to be hard to concentrate so it's a good thing they're holding off on full classes until Wednesday. Still, it's scary knowing there's a murderer on the loose."

"Don't worry babe, I'll protect you," Greg promised.

Molly laughed. "I feel better already. I love you."

"I love you too. You and your parents still coming over later?"

"Yes, and Mom is bringing her famous Dream Cake."

"Mmm, I can't wait to dive into that." Sylvia Hooper was well known around town for her dessert, a vanilla chiffon cake which had crushed pineapples and mandarin oranges mixed into the batter, topped with homemade sweet cream and more crushed pineapple. It had even won an award at a baking contest several years back.

"You should have been here earlier when it was in the oven. I was about ready to pull it out and cut a slice," Molly joked.

Greg was about to respond, but he saw his dad come in, motioning for him to get off the phone. "Hey Molls, my dad needs me. I've gotta go."

"Okay Greg. I'll see you later. Bye."

"Bye babe." Greg hung up the phone. "Everything okay Dad?"

Robert nodded. "Yeah. I need you to give ol' Sarge a bath  and then take him for a walk before the guests arrive. I don't want him stinking up the joint while people are outside and eating."

Greg laughed. "Sure thing Dad." Sarge was their Labrador Retriever. He was eight years old and a sweet, but ornery dog who loved getting dirty.

"Your mother has him contained in the garage and the poor pooch is going stir crazy," Robert explained.

Greg frowned a little. "Do you think we should get another dog Dad? A guard dog? Sarge is great, but he's too friendly with strangers."

"Oh Greg, you can't dwell on about these murders. I know it's scary, but I don't think whomever killed Sally and Phillip is going to break into homes and do the same thing. And having another big dog in the house would be too much. Your mother would be at her wits' end. We just to have faith the police will catch this creep."

Greg nodded solemnly. His dad put an arm around him. "You're too young to worry about this. I want you to be safe, but as long as you don't break curfew you'll be okay."

"I guess so Dad." But deep down, Greg wasn't so sure.

*****

Dave Morstan was driving around town making sure things were quiet and so far everything was calm. It was Labor Day, and many people had plans. He would be going to the Lestrade's barbecue later with his wife and daughter, trying his damnedest not to think about the murders but he knew it would probably be the only topic of conversation.

He would be pulling in a lot of overtime with this case, and with his consent, the mayor would be pulling some detectives from Los Angeles to assist. Sherrinford didn't have enough manpower and resources for the investigation. Some officers from Gatiss would also be coming down to do part time patrols and helping with evening activities. They would need all the help they could get to get this maniac off the streets.

Officer James Sholto's voice called in on his radio. "Patrol Unit 26 this is base. What's your 10-101?" 

"10-4 base, all clear. Everything okay on your end?"

"I have a young man named Sebastian Wilkes at the station who says he's got information on the sock hop murders."

Officer Morstan's stomach dropped. Sebastian was a known troublemaker, or used to be. He'd settled down in the last 10 months. Still, the boy wasn't totally trustworthy, and it had to do with his hankering for young teenage boys. Nobody ever filed charges against him because his parents were very prominent and very rich, and always came to their son's defense. Sebastian was a very intimidating young man. But there must have been something that attracted little Henry Knight to him, and to his parents' credit, they took in the kid after his family kicked him out. And Henry had been a positive influence on Sebastian.

"Officer Morstan? You there?" Sholto asked.

"Yes, 10-4. I'm coming back to base. Keep Wilkes there."

"10-4 sir."

Dave turned his car around and began to drive back to the station, eager to hear what Sebastian had to say.

*****

 Less than ten minutes later, Dave was entering the station. Officer Sholto was at the front desk with Sebastian standing there, a fierce look on his handsome face. "Okay Sebastian, Officer Sholto says you have information on the murders. Tell me what you know."

"I think I know who killed that couple."

Dave remained calm. He had enough years under his belt to know many people who accused someone of murder did it because they didn't like said person. But right now anything was better than nothing. "Who do you suspect?"

Sebastian narrowed his light blue eyes into slits and looked straight at Dave. "It was Eurus Holmes."

Dave's eyes widened in surprise. He knew Eurus and her siblings had developed a quick reputation for being "weird", and Sherlock already got a taste of jail thanks to his attack on John Watson, but he didn't think she was capable of slicing up two people she probably never met. Still, he had to be professional and listen to Sebastian.

"What makes you think she did it?"

"She's crazy. She attacked me at Regent's Park last week with a switchblade. She sliced my arm up good." He showed Dave the scars from his wound.

"That's pretty nasty," Dave admitted. "Why didn't you report it to us?"

Sebastian snorted. "I didn't think you'd take me seriously, being a perverted fag who's dating and living with a fifteen year-old boy after all. You'd probably think I did something to deserve it."

Dave was surprised at Sebastian's candor. "I take any assault serious."

"Well anyway, it wouldn't surprise me if she killed them. If she can cut me with a switchblade, I'm sure she wouldn't bat an eyelid at cutting up two people."

Dave clasped his hands in front of his face in thought. Phillip said the killer was a he. But it could have been a female.

"I'll check it out Sebastian. Thank you for coming down."

"Thank you Officer." Sebastian headed for the front doors. A smile crept on his face as he headed to his car.  _That crazy Holmes chick needed to be investigated. And this would be good payback for what she did to me. Nobody messes with a Wilkes and gets away with it._

*****

Despite the black cloud of the murders hanging overhead, everyone was enjoying themselves at the Lestrade's home. John was sitting in the grass munching on watermelon with Victor, his new boyfriend Eddie Van Coon (although he introduced him as a friend, which Eddie readily understood since his parents were there and didn't know the two were dating), Greg, Molly, Mike, and Janine. Sarge was curled up next to Greg, sleeping. John's mother was sitting on the back porch talking with Shirley Lestrade, Molly's parents, and Mike's parents. 

Wanda smiled as she watched her son eat and talk with his friends. This is how it should be all the time, she thought. Carefree, innocent, and without having to be frightened of faceless maniacs waiting to jump out at you in the dark. She prayed the killer would be caught soon.

*****

Sidney and Veronica Holmes were sitting in the library, shaken up even more than they already were. They came to America for a brand new life and to try to erase the awful memories of their son's death. Now here they are smack dab in the middle of murder again---and Eurus had been accused of killing two strangers. The police couldn't say who made the accusation, but anyone in town that encountered their daughter could have done it. She just wasn't a pleasant person to be around and rubbed others the wrong way.

Naturally Eurus was pleased that she was accused of murder. "It makes me happy you have such high aspirations of me," she told Officer Morstan during his visit earlier. "But I didn't do it. I was seen leaving the back way with Jim Moriarty shortly before the chaos, and I was spotted by that insipid Janine Hawkins and her boyfriend. Didn't they tell you?"

Officer Morstan had to admit Janine and Mike did not report it, but there was so much insanity things were bound to be forgotten. He apologized and said he would confirm the alibi with Jim, Janine, and Mike. He also told the family to stay safe and to have the kids mind the curfew.

Sidney and Veronica had banished Eurus to her room for the rest of the day, but allowed her to talk on the phone with Jim. She knew she was in trouble and for once, decided to listen to her parents. If word got out there was another killer in Sherrinford, there would be no telling what would happen to her family. She liked it here and didn't want to move again. Maybe she could help catch the murderer. She was much smarter than the police, much smarter than anyone really, outside of her family. If anyone could solve this crime, it would be her.

*****

Another day in Sherrinford was coming to a close. It had been a quiet and peaceful day. School was starting tomorrow and parents and kids were getting ready to head back to class. The families of Phillip Anderson and Sally Donovan were planning a joint funeral. And somewhere, a killer was watching---and waiting.

 


	21. Heartaches By the Number

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John and Sherlock spends some more time together, Wanda buys a gun---and gets a date---and the killer makes another chilling call to the radio station.

John sat at the kitchen table, munching on a piece of toast. He would be leaving for school soon, and he was angry that his first day, which should have been an otherwise happy event, was now marred by fear, all thanks to a faceless maniac. But there he was nothing he could do except live his life as he normally did, and not be running scared.

His mother walked in, wearing a pink short-sleeved shirtdress. Her blond hair was up in a loose bun, and her blue eyes were tired. John knew she didn't get much sleep last night. Then again, neither did he.

She bent down and kissed him on the cheek. "Please be careful going to and from school today Johnny."

"I will Mom. You be careful going to and from work."

Wanda sat down and poured herself a glass of orange juice. "It all seems so unreal."

"Yeah. You expect this stuff to happen in Los Angeles or San Francisco, but not Sherrinford. I guess you're not safe anywhere these days."

Wanda almost cried at her son's response. He was too young to be dealing with this. She placed her hand on top of his. "Johnny, we'll be okay. We'll just have to abide by the curfew and be aware of our surroundings."

John nodded but he wasn't so sure. Killers didn't care if it was night or day, they would strike when the mood took them. "You still going to get that gun? I think it's a good idea even though you don't like them."

"I hate giving in to fear, but I would feel a little safer with one in the house. I'm going to Hal's shop after work to see what he has, if everyone else in town hasn't been to him first."

A knowing smile played on John's lips. "Oh I'm sure Mr. Auden has one for you Mom, and he'll probably give it to you at a discount too."

Wanda didn't miss her son's coy expression. "What are you getting at?"

"Mr. Auden likes you Mom. He told me so the last time I was at church. He told me I had a very pretty mother."

"Oh Johnny, he says that to all the ladies. He's a big flirt."

"He probably doesn't tell all the ladies he wants to take them out on a date."

"John Hamish Watson, he said no such thing. You better stop spreading rumors." 

John shook his head. "I'm not spreading anything. He asked me if it was okay to ask you out. I said it was fine."

"John you said no such thing!" Wanda's blue eyes were flashing with annoyance.

"I did. I thought it was nice of him to do that. I know you aren't keen on dating, you still miss Dad. But it's been three years Mom. You're allowed to have some fun."

Wanda couldn't help but laugh. "I'm getting dating advice from my sixteen year-old son, Lord help me. But John, honestly, I'm not ready for romance. I would be keen on going out with someone, but as friends. Surely you can understand."

_Oh boy, did he ever._ "I certainly can."

Wanda looked at the clock on the wall. "It's almost seven-thirty young man. Time for you to be off to school, and me off to work. Are you coming home after school?"

"I'm not sure. It depends on if I have to stay after. Coach Stewart might want the team to meet."

"Well make sure you call me at the office okay?"

"Sure thing Mom."

Wanda kissed her son again and the two were out the door to start their day.

*****

 John was inside his homeroom at Culverton Smith High. He was looking at his schedule. His full roster of classes would start tomorrow. Today was a half-day. He would spend the first two hours in homeroom, then to an assembly discussing safety regarding last Saturday night's murders, and then the final hour, Coach Stewart would be meeting with the varsity football players in the gym to talk about how the games would be handled with curfew.

He was glad to have Molly, Victor, Mary, and Mike in homeroom with him, he didn't feel so alone. He'd even looked to see if Sherlock had made it to school, but didn't see him. His parents had probably kept him home, it appeared many students opted not to come today. John wanted to go to school. That psycho on the loose wasn't scaring him into staying away. 

*****

It was five minutes after twelve, and John was exiting the gym with Greg and Victor. The school day had come to an end and the three were talking about the assembly and football meeting.

"What do you think about the games starting at six instead of seven?" Greg asked.

John shrugged. "It doesn't make a difference to me. Moving times isn't going to deter a killer. He'll strike when he wants to."

"I agree. Psychopaths don't need a certain time of the day to be crazy," Victor added.

"Well, that assembly this morning really spooked a lot of people. Molly didn't want to leave me after it ended," Greg said. 

The three were now in the parking lot. Molly was waiting by Greg's car, Janine and Mike with her, and she broke out into a huge grin when she saw her boyfriend. Greg waved to her. "Okay guys, see you later. I'm heading to The Big H to grab lunch with my girl."

"And I'm heading to the beach. Eddie's meeting me there when he gets out of school," Victor said. Victor's boyfriend went to Baskerville, who was not affected by the murders in Sherrinford and had a full day of class.

"You do anything this afternoon John?" Greg asked.

"I'm going home, grabbing some snacks and heading to the old Belgrave place for some quiet reading," John replied. "Then I'm going home and staying there."

The three boys said their goodbyes and parted. John walked to his car. Soon he was the only one in the parking lot, and despite the bright early afternoon sunshine, a shiver crept down his spine. The killer could be anywhere. He could even be watching the school, looking for his next victim---

Suddenly, a hand clasped his shoulder from behind. John cried out and reared back with his elbows. He heard an "oof!" and John spun around to see his would-be attacker. His eyes widened when he saw Sherlock, bent over and clutching his ribs. 

"Sherlock!" John cried, reaching towards him. "I'm sorry, but I thought it was that maniac!"

Sherlock stood up, grimacing. "Sorry I scared you. Where did you learn that maneuver?"

"From my Dad. He wanted me to learn self-defense after I had a run-in with an older boy when we were in Los Angeles."

Sherlock frowned. "A run-in?"

"Yeah. Apparently I'm quite the magnet for horny teenage boys." John looked pointedly at Sherlock, who blanched a little. "When I was eleven, a fifteen year-old boy tried to kidnap me and take me to his house. He wanted to have sex with me. I managed to get away and after that, Dad taught me some moves he learned in the Army."

"That's why you were able to fight me off so easily," Sherlock softly replied, looking away.

"Yes." John says nothing else as he fishes for his car keys inside his jeans pocket. 

Sherlock moved to lean up against John's car. John can't help but think how graceful he looked, like he's modeling for a magazine. He also noticed for the first time Sherlock's hair is slicked back again, save for a stray dark curl lying against his forehead, and he's wearing his impossibly tight jeans and a black muscle shirt, revealing pale but toned arms.

"John, I want us to spend some time together this afternoon before curfew," Sherlock told him.

"I've got plans."

"Yes. On your own at Regent's Park, or the old Belgrave mansion."

John shook his head. "I'll never get over how you manage to know what I'm going to do without me telling you."

Sherlock smirked. Then he leaned in closer, those catlike eyes of his showing hunger and desire. "I want to kiss you," he murmured.

John backs away a little. "Not here."

Sherlock pouted and huffed, causing John to laugh. "I'm going to go home and grab some snacks. Have you eaten?"

Sherlock doesn't say anything, continuing to pout. "Yeah, I thought so. You need to eat, you stubborn greaser."

"No I don't, it's just transport---"

"Stuff your 'transport'. If you don't eat something, you won't get any kisses." John stared at him defiantly.

"Emotional blackmail, huh John?"

"You should be used to it." 

Sherlock sighed. At this point, he'd do anything to be with John. "All right. I'll eat your insipid snacks."

John chuckled. "Good. That wasn't so bad, was it?"

Sherlock snorted in reply.

John opened his door and got in. "You drive your motorcycle?"

"Yes, it's parked across the street."

"Come back to my house. I'll grab the snacks, call my mom to let her know I'm okay, and then we're heading to Belgrave."

Sherlock couldn't get to his bike fast enough.

*****

The old Belgrave mansion was a popular place for teens to hang out, party, and do other more adult activities. Today, it would have been more populated, but Sherlock and John were the only ones there. The killings more than likely had kept them away because it was a huge, isolated estate on the edge of town. 

The two were in what used to be the ballroom. The old mansion used to be a grand place, first built in 1908 by Oliver Belgrave, a gift to his bride Cornelia. After they died, it was inherited by their only child, Randall, who brought his wife Faith to live in it. The two stayed there for twelve years, until Faith ran off with the chauffeur, and Randall left, no longer able to bear the memories of a shattered marriage. Another family, the Ecclestons, made up of husband, wife, and three children, bought it and lived there for a time. Eventually, the estate passed through several other families through decades, and then in 1953, it was left an abandoned, slightly run-down landmark. The teens who used it as their private hideaway took care in not destroying anything, and the town decided just to leave it as is.

John and Sherlock lay on a blanket John retrieved from his house. The two were sipping on sodas and munching on apples and pretzels. John had brought his radio, tuned into KMOF. 

Sherlock reached a long arm out towards John and began to gently caress his cheek with his knuckles. "You're too far away," he breathed.

John shivered at the warm touch and he gazed at the other boy, seeing the longing and want in his face. John then reached out with his arm and repeated Sherlock's action.

The invitation was all Sherlock needed, and he pushed his soda bottle and food away to lay next to John, their faces practically touching. Sherlock pressed his lips to John's, placing his hands on John's hips. Eventually John responded and wrapped his arms around Sherlock's back. Sherlock smiled and moved to the crook of John's neck, pressing quick and hot kisses to his tanned skin, mumbling "I love you" in between kisses.

Finally, Sherlock broke away and gazed at John dreamily. "I could stay here like this with you forever, but we'd both be in trouble if we broke curfew."

"Mmm," was all John could say.

That gave Sherlock another excuse to move in close and kiss John again.

*****

Wanda was at Hal's Gun Shop, perusing a case of small handguns. Hal Auden, a handsome man of forty-four, with strawberry blond hair and emerald green eyes, looked at the widow appreciatively. He'd been attracted to her for some time, but never approached her because she still mourned her late husband. He felt like a fool for approaching her son and basically getting his blessing to ask her out, but was ecstatic that John thought it would be good for his mother to go out with him.

Wanda pointed to a silver Ruger 22. "I think this one Hal. How much?"

"Sixty for you Wanda."

The price was a lot less then she thought she would pay, then she remembered John's teasing about Hal dropping the price because he liked her. "How much is it really?"

"One twenty, but I'm giving you a fifty percent discount. I want you and your boy to be safe," Hal earnestly replied.

"I'll take it. Thank you Hal," Wanda replied, pulling cash out of her purse and handing it to him.

As Hal rang up the sale, he tried to look at her casually. "Uh Wanda, I was thinking, maybe you and I could go get a bite to eat sometime. That is---well, if you're up to it."

Wanda peered at him. _So John was right, he does like me._ "Hal, I want you to know, and don't take this the wrong way, I'm not ready to jump into romance just yet---"

Hal's face dropped, and Wanda felt a pang of guilt. "I'm being honest. Ham was the love of my life. But I would like to go out to dinner with you, as a friend. I know that's not what you want, but that's what I'm willing to give now, if that's okay."

Hal perked up a little. Going out with Wanda as friends was better than nothing at all. "I'd like that."

"How about this Friday night? Six o'clock?" 

Hal eagerly shook his head yes. "That sounds good. That'll give us a few hours until curfew." He frowned. "I hate that this creep is making everyone acting like scared rabbits. It's good for business, I'll admit that, but it shouldn't be like this."

"I know Hal, I know," Wanda sympathized. "We've just need to have faith that this maniac will be caught."

*****

John was in his bedroom, listening to KMOF. It was seven-thirty, and he was winding down from the day's events. His time with Sherlock at the Belgrave place, he had to admit, was wonderful. Every now and then he would feel guilty for even agreeing to be alone with Sherlock, and enjoying it, but there was something about the greaser that made him irresistible. He couldn't understand the attraction. He didn't think he ever would.

 *****

"Billy, we've got a caller on line one," Gene Hunt called out, dread filling his insides like thick fog encroaching a dark, deserted alley. "I think it's our killer."

Billy Wiggins sat up straight, bracing himself. "Okay Gene, put him through and record it."

Gene motioned for Billy to answer. "Hello KMOF, Billy Wiggins."

"Good evening Billy. Having a good night?" the eerie whisper of the killer asked.

"Hello. I was hoping you'd call again," Billy calmly answered.

"Good for ratings am I?" the killer wondered, cackling.

"If that's what you believe," Billy steadily replied.

"What do you believe?" the killer challenged.

"You're enjoying the attention, plain and simple."

"You're a smart man."

"Let's cut to the chase. Planning another murder are you?" Billy sounded more forceful this time, his initial fears melting away like acid on flesh.

"Of course. That's why I'm calling. I want to warn the lovely citizens of Sherrinford that I'm going to do it again. Nobody will know when, or whom, but it will happen. Remember, no one is safe."

"You need help. Let someone help you," Billy pleaded.

The killer cackled again. "I don't need anyone's help. Especially not in this despicable town."

"Then why don't you leave, if you hate Sherrinford so much? Do everyone a favor and just go," Billy retorted.

"Then my revenge would be pointless. No, I'm not going anywhere Billy, not until the hypocrites pay. You have nothing to worry about, you're not on my list. Your life is spared."

"That doesn't make me feel any better," Billy soberly responded.

"It shouldn't. Even those not on my list shouldn't feel better. I will be killing their friends, their loved ones...I'll still cause devastation and despair to them even if I'm not tearing into their flesh."

Billy shuddered, chills seeping into his bones. 

"Well, I must bid you goodnight. I'll call again after my next handiwork is complete. Sweet dreams."

Billy heard the click before he could reply, and he never thought the sound of a phone hanging up could be so sinister. He looked at Gene, who had an expression of disbelief on his face.

The DJ took a few seconds to compose himself. "We're going to play the call after the next song. I hope somebody listening recognizes that voice. We can't have someone else dying, we just can't."

The next song that played was Ray Price's "Heartaches By the Number." Billy sadly thought that Sherrinford was going to be in for a lot of heartaches if this killer wasn't stopped.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had to use the name of Benedict and Sophie's new baby boy in the story somehow. :-D


	22. Crazy, Man, Crazy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> More Johnlock, some subtle Mollcroft, and the mysterious killer takes a third victim...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Watch out for the red herring in this chapter!  
> Trigger for mild homophobia and talk of homosexuality.

John jogged through the parking lot of Culverton Smith High, trying to dodge the big fat raindrops that were coming down from the dark clouds above. He didn't bring an umbrella, and he didn't want to be shivering in the halls the rest of the morning.

"John! Hey John wait up will ya!"

John turned around and smiled when he saw Victor running to meet him. "You afraid of a little water?" his friend joked.

"No but I don't want to be wet and freezing inside. You know how those classrooms are," John said.

The two walked into the school, weaving their way through the groups of kids hanging out chatting in the hallway and up the steps to the second floor where their lockers and their homeroom were. John walked to his locker, opened it, and grabbed the books and notes he needed. After homeroom, his first class was history, then a free period before lunch.

"Let's go to my locker than we can walk to homeroom together," Victor said.

After Victor grabbed his books, the two made their way to Mrs. Brealey's class to begin their day. When they walked in, Mary, Mike and Molly were already there talking to each other. 

"Hey John, Victor," Mike greeted them.

"Hi guys." John slid into his seat and Victor sat next to him on his right. The teacher wasn't in the room yet. 

"We were just talking about the killer calling the radio station again last night," Mary whispered.

"I heard it. Talk about creep city," Victor replied. "My mom was scared out of her wits."

"My parents won't let me listen to the radio at night anymore, well at least that station," Molly said. "They'll think I'll have bad dreams."

"Mom doesn't want me listening either." John leaned in closer to his friends. "She bought a gun yesterday."

Molly's eyes went wide. "A gun? For real?"

John gravely nodded. "She hates them but she's really spooked. But she's got a date with Mr. Auden on Friday night."

"Oh my God! Your mom is going on a date? With the man that sold her the gun?" Mary whispered heatedly.

"Yeah. Mr. Auden really likes her, but she just wants to be friends right now. It's not really a boyfriend/girlfriend deal. She still misses Dad."

"Well I hope she has a good time and doesn't let this nut running loose spoil it for her," Mike replied.

Mrs. Brealey walked into the room and called the class to attention to get ready to stand for the Pledge of Allegiance. All thoughts of the killer were swept aside for now.

*****

John was in the library, it was his free period. He was using the time to complete his history assignment. He had to work at The Big H from 4:00 - 8:00 tonight and he didn't want to spend the rest of the evening before bed doing a lot of homework.

There were only a few students in the room; the sun had come out and warmed things up so many that had a free period were outside. 

John was so engrossed in his work, he didn't see Sherlock sit next to him. It was only until John felt a hand on his thigh that he startled and turned to his left side---seeing Sherlock stare back at him with a burning intensity in his multicolored eyes. "Sherlock, you scared the shit out of me!" John hissed. "Don't sneak up on me like that. And get your hand off my leg!"

Sherlock just chuckled and continued keep his hand on John's thigh, fingers sweeping ever so higher towards his crotch. 

John glared at him hard and yanked his hand away. "I told you to get your hand off my leg. Your listening skills need serious improvement," he whispered hotly. 

Irritated, John scooped up his stuff and stormed away from the table, going to one all the way on the other side by the window. He plopped down and tried to immerse himself back in his work, but was completely distracted. He could still feel Sherlock's long fingers on his leg. _Damn that horny greaser_ , he angrily thought. 

By the time John looked back towards the other table, Sherlock was gone. John thought nothing of it, and in a few minutes, was able to get back to his history homework.

*****

Sherlock stood against his motorcycle in the parking lot, taking a long drag off his cigarette, feeling like an idiot. He knew he shouldn't have confronted John like that, and in the school library, but he was too hopped up on seeing the blond. He needed a friendly face after the last person he met slapped him. It really wasn't his fault though. He pointedly told her she shouldn't be asking him for his phone number when not only was she dating another guy, she was pregnant with said guy's father's baby.

Now he's pissed off John, and hopefully John will cool his jets and allow him to apologize. Because he doesn't want anyone else. He knew it was John from the moment he spotted him outside the Roller-Rama. 

Sherlock took another drag, inhaled deeply, and dropped the stub to the ground, crushing it with his black leather boot. His free period was almost over, and lunch would be starting shortly. He didn't feel like eating, but he'd knew he'd get hell at home from his mother if he didn't take a few bites of something, so he'd figure he'd get a piece of fruit in the cafeteria.

As Sherlock began to walk towards the school entrance, his sister Eurus came strolling up from the side, looking pristine in a mint green sleeveless shirt dress, black Mary Janes, with her dark hair pulled up in a tasteful bun. She was carrying a book under her arm. She looked like the perfect schoolgirl, and not the insane murderer Sherlock knew her to really be. A few times today he wondered if Sheridan were still alive, how he would react to being in public school. His deceased twin had been the most outgoing, the less caustic---the more _normal_ out of all the Holmes siblings. He'd probably make tons of friends, having the time of his life. A wistful smile crossed Sherlock's lips as he pictured his brother and his easy laugh, the baritone voice just like his, but speaking less cruel words.

"Hello sister," Sherlock said coolly. "Enjoying your first day of school so far?"

Eurus smiled that trademark eerie smile of hers. "It's been most...interesting. Oh don't get me wrong, nearly everyone is just as dull, stupid, and obnoxious as the students back in private school in England, but without the stuffy uniforms. I've had three people call me a freak, and one a looney-tunes bitch." She chuckled darkly. "People are so predictable. However, Jimmy pulled me into the broom closet for a snog, so the morning hasn't been that awful." She shot her brother a coy gaze. "How's John?"

Sherlock narrowed his eyes at her. "Don't even ask." And with that, he stomped away, leaving Eurus to shrug her shoulders. She shifted the book she was carrying, _Poisons and their Antidotes_ , and casually followed her brother inside.

*****

Sherlock had cornered John just before lunch and apologized profusely for his behavior. John had cooled off by then, and he accepted it, with a command to save the groping for after school. Sherlock had been relieved to hear that John hadn't changed his mind about that, he thought he'd literally die if he wasn't able to touch the boy he loved.

*****

John was sitting in the cafeteria with Molly, Greg, Victor, Mary, Little Seb, Janine, and Mike. Sherlock had quickly grabbed an apple and a carton of milk and split to spend lunch outside, and John didn't blame him. He hadn't been exactly making friends his first day of school thanks to his observant mind and unfiltered mouth. John had suggested he dial back the deductions but Sherlock pretty much refused. John told him "it's your funeral," and walked away to eat lunch with his friends.

John glanced around the cafeteria. All the usual groups were in place: Carl Powers, Marty Freeman, Art Doyle, Jeff Hope, and Tim Carlton, who had his arm draped around girlfriend Sophie Hunter, were at one table. All the other cheerleaders and their boyfriends except for Janine were at another. John couldn't help but notice how close Irene Adler was sitting next to Kate Moffat; Janine had said they were secretly dating. It would make sense why Greg had problems with getting Irene to hang with him and his friends; she seemed to only be with him for social status because he played football. John always thought that was ridiculous, but he kept that opinion to himself. Now seeing him with his arm around Molly; completely besotted with his best friend, John wondered why he didn't get with her sooner.

John looked towards the exit doors and spotted Sherlock Holmes' older brother Mycroft, who was sitting and talking with sophomore Henry Knight, and a few other boys that were always picked on by some of the more popular jocks and had square and nerd screamed at them all the time. Henry up until now had been a popular target for bullies due to his short stature, love of horror and science fiction movies, and being one of the few outed gay boys in town, but after he moved in with Sebastian Wilkes, he was left alone. Sebastian threatened to pulverize anyone who came hear his boyfriend. John had to admit Henry had it very good. He was treated like royalty by Sebastian's parents, who were ecstatic that Henry's presence calmed Sebastian down, which John was grateful for. The few times John talked to Henry, he was always pleasant and he had apologized profusely for Sebastian's advances towards him.

Jim Moriarty and Eurus Holmes had a table to themselves, they were holding hands. John would definitely nominate them for Oddest Couple, if there had been such a contest. The greaser who really wasn't, and the posh weird girl. Even Sherlock barely tolerated his sister's presence. John felt that Sherlock was holding back something when it came to her, but it wasn't his place to pry. He'd felt Sherlock would tell him eventually.

All to soon, the bell rang, which meant lunch was over and John would head to his two final classes, English, and chemistry. Then he would go home and get some rest, and then head to work. It was going to take some time adjusting to a routine now that summer vacation was done, but he was actually glad to get back into it, and even more glad to be playing football again. Anything to take his mind off these awful murders and creepy phone calls.

*****

English passed by smoothly. It wasn't John's favorite subject but he always did well in it. His teachers told him he had a natural knack for writing, and suggested several times he should join the school newspaper. John always made excuses he had no time because of football, which wasn't a total lie, but in reality he didn't need another extra curricular activity taking up even more time when he also held down a steady part-time job. He didn't want to be a burnout at sixteen. 

The school day was almost over, and John had one more class. He slid into his seat in the back by the window for Mr. Turing's chemistry class. Chemistry was not one of his strongest subjects, but he liked the teacher and thought it was interesting. He gazed out the window. It was overcast again, and it looked like rain. That meant a slow night at work, but that also meant being able to do homework between customers.

Other students filed in. It was a small class. Not a lot of teens wanted to take chemistry for last period, their brains already taxed and the last thing they wanted to do was try and get their tired minds wrapped around compounds and formulas. 

John's heart and stomach lurched when he saw Sherlock stride in and immediately took a seat next to him. John noticed a few of the girls staring at him, eyeing his tall, lean body clothed in his leather jacket, blue jeans, and tight white T-shirt. There were quite a few greasers at Culverton, but none so beautiful and ethereal like Sherlock.

"Hey John," Sherlock said quietly.

"Hi. I wasn't expecting to have any classes with you," John said. 

"Well, you've got one with me. Glad?" Sherlock peered at him, his eyes, now a sparkling ice blue, and John felt like he was being devoured.

"It doesn't make a difference to me," John replied, trying to stay nonchalant.

"Liar," Sherlock replied, smirking.

Before John could make a retort, a short but shapely brunette in pink pedal pushers and a matching sweater came up to Sherlock, smiled her most seductive smile, and placed a piece of paper on top of his desk. John tried to hold back his laughter as Sherlock picked up the paper. It was a name, Ellen, and a phone number. Sherlock handed the paper back to the girl. "Not interested. And none of the hot-rodders you've approached today were either."

Ellen's smile turned into a furious frown, and she stalked off. John was close to tears, wanting to roar with laughter so much. If only she and the other girls knew where Sherlock's interests really lie, they would be doing more than stalking off. 

Sherlock turned back to John. "Idiots," he grumbled. 

"What did you expect? Girls are going to flock to a guy that looks like you. They're not idiots. _You're_ the idiot for not recognizing that." 

"Maybe I should tell them whom I'm really interested in, then they won't flock anymore." Sherlock leered at John.

"Cool it daddy-o," John warned. "You know that's not a good idea."

Just then Mr. Turning entered the classroom and greeted his students, signaling class was to begin. John focused on the blackboard, but all Sherlock could focus on was John's handsome open face and golden locks he couldn't wait to run his hands through after school let out.

*****

Molly was left alone to walk home from school. Greg had gotten a call from the office. He had to miss his last class, his dad had called with news his mom was in the hospital, she had gotten into a car accident that afternoon. She was fine, just bruised ribs and mild whiplash. Molly would have gotten a ride with either Janine or Sarah, but they and the other cheerleaders were called into an impromptu meeting after school. John was nowhere to be found and Molly assumed he wanted to get home quickly to relax before going into work. She had the night off. But her house wasn't that far, and the sun was peeking out through the clouds again.

As Molly strolled along on the sidewalk, she noticed a white car, a 1957 Plymouth Fury with a thick gold stripe painted on the side slow down next to her. Molly recognized the driver, it was Carl Powers, and she cringed, remembering Janine's mention that he asked about her at the slumber party.

"Hey cutie," Carl called to her, grinning like a Cheshire Cat. "Need a ride?"

Molly shook her head. "No Carl, I'm fine."

"Aw, come on Molly. I don't bite...hard." He motioned for her to get in.

"No thank you, I'd rather walk." She began to move again, and Carl crawled along with her.

"You know, it's not cool that your guy abandoned you to be by yourself. There is a murderer loose. It's my duty to protect you," Carl said.

"Greg didn't abandon me. His mom's in the hospital."

"Yeah, a likely story."

Molly started to get annoyed. "Shove off Carl. My relationship with Greg is none of your business. Maybe if you weren't such a nosy punk, more girls would want to be around you." Molly hardly ever got mad and spoke out of turn, but Carl was an irritating jerk.

Carl's mouth tightened, and Molly stormed away, taking brisker strides, ignoring the boy. Suddenly, Carl sped by her, tires loudly squealing. She flinched at the sound as it sliced through her eardrums. She wondered if she should have insulted him as he was offering her a ride, but she knew his reputation of being a sexually aggressive bully, and he probably would have taken her somewhere isolated to put the moves on her. No, she was better off holding her own and turning him down, and Greg would have been livid if she had gotten into his car.

Molly was passing The Big H. She decided to stop in, take a break, and get something to drink. A cherry cola would soothe her frayed nerves. She walked into the parking lot. She saw Ella Parsons, a pretty black twenty-two year-old, bringing food to a customer. Molly waved at her, and Ella waved back. 

"Hi Molly. I thought you were off today," Ella said, giving her a hug.

"I am, but I got thirsty."

"No problem. What do you want. It's on the house of course."

"Cherry cola please."

"Coming right up." Ella skated away, and Molly took a seat at the picnic table, placing her bookbag on the table.

Ella brought her the soda, and sat down across from her. "It's been pretty slow today, but that's expected with school back on. Did you just come from there?"

Molly nodded. "Yep. It was pretty good. The day flew by. Of course I've got tons of homework. You'd think the teachers would go easy on the first day, but they never do."

"Good thing I'm out of school then," Ella replied, wiping her sweaty forehead. "I don't miss the homework."

Molly took a sip of her soda. "Just two more years, and then I'm done. I can't wait."

"Do you have any plans for after you graduate?" Ella asked.

"I'm not sure yet. I'm thinking nursing, or working in a lab. I like science and chemistry."

"Well, whatever you do, I know you'll succeed. You're smart and have a good head on your shoulders."

Molly smiled. "Thanks Ella, that's sweet of you to say."

"I wanted to be a therapist, you know, talk to people about their problems and help them. But most people don't want a black woman telling them what they should do, so I decided not to pursue it. So here I am, a rollerskating waitress. But it pays the bills and I love Mrs. H to death, she's like a mother to me."

Ella smiled ruefully, and Molly felt sorry for her. "Things will change, I know they will."

"Maybe one day." Ella got up and smoothed down her black skirt. "Well, back to work. It was nice talking to you Molly."

"You too." Molly watched her skate away and she realized she had it pretty good as a sixteen year-old. Where would she be at Ella's age? Twenty-two wasn't that far off.

Molly finished her soda and threw the Styrofoam cup in the trash. She grabbed her bag and began to head home. As she stepped out of the parking lot, she recognized Mycroft Holmes' green Aston Martin sitting at the intersection across from her.

Thinking nothing of it, she continued for her house. But soon, Mycroft had gone through the traffic light and was driving right up to her. She stopped, and he leaned over towards the passenger side door. "Hello Molly. Would you like a lift home?"

Molly at first wanted to say no, thinking of Greg and her parents wanting to stay away from him. But Mycroft hadn't done anything for a while, and their last conversation was pleasant. Her parents weren't home, her father at work and her mother away in Gatiss doing volunteer work at the rest home. They wouldn't be there to scold her. 

She nodded her head. "Yes, thank you Mycroft." 

He smiled and opened the door for her. She got in, placing her bookbag in her lap.

"How was your first day among the commoners at Culverton?" Molly asked, trying to sound teasing.

Mycroft chuckled. "Just fine. I found some people to talk to who actually weren't that dreadful. The classes and teachers were extremely dull but I was expecting that."

"Well, I'd figure they would be dull compared to the schools you attended back in England."

"No, they were dull there as well."

Molly looked at him sharply. "Is there anything that's not dull to you Mycroft?"

A cryptic smile played on his lips. "You being in the car and talking with me isn't dull."

Molly sighed. "Well, I guess that's something."

"It's everything." Mycroft turned and gazed at her so intently Molly felt his eyes would burn a hole right into her very soul. But she wasn't scared. Not like she would have been with Carl. Molly realized this was how Mycroft simply was. 

The two rode in silence until they reached Molly's driveway. She opened the door. "Thanks for the ride, I appreciate it." She turned to smile at him. "I'll see you at school tomorrow. Have a good day."

"You too Molly. Goodbye."

Molly took her bag and got out, closing the door. She waved at Mycroft and turned to go into her house. Mycroft watched her for a few seconds, then drove away and to his house. It was slow-going, but it seemed the tide was beginning to turn when it came to Molly and her attitude towards him. Mycroft could wait. He _would wait._

*****

There was a large crowd inside Sherrinford Community Church for the town hall meeting. As the mayor spoke about what he was doing on his end to protect the citizens, Gloria Wilkes sat in the very back pew by the doors, head down, hands folded in her lap like she was at a Sunday service. She had gotten some dirty looks from a few people, but most cast appreciative glances her way that she was here.

Gloria knew she and her family weren't well-liked. She had been accused of being a bad mother. She heard the whispers and the trash talk. How could someone like her raise a faggot and child molester like Sebastian? Why did she condone his behavior and allow him to keep his underage boyfriend in her home? 

They didn't know why she allowed it. She'd had to deal with it as a child. Her father, Grant, was a well-respected attorney in Los Angeles. Her mother Nancy was the dutiful housewife and socialite. On the outside, they had the perfect family. On the inside, it was a whole different story. Her father was a closeted homosexual and engaged in secret affairs with young men on the side. She didn't find out until she was fifteen what was going on. Nancy refused to leave her husband and stood by him. Gloria was hurt and confused but tried to rationalize the things both of her parents did. Then five years later, her father committed suicide after one of his lovers, a nineteen year-old man looking for a meal ticket, threatened to expose the relationship unless he received ten-thousand dollars to keep quiet. Her father couldn't face being found out. The family would have been ruined. So he sacrificed himself. 

The guy still got the money though, her mother paid him off, and the two moved to Sherrinford. Nancy remarried a wonderful man that ran a successful real-estate company, and eventually the two moved on. But for Gloria, the painful memories lingered just below the surface, and when her son Sebastian came out to her and his father when he was sixteen, she decided she wasn't going to have him suffer the same shame and isolation her father did. So she let Sebastian openly have his relationships. And now that he had Henry, and had settled down for the most part, it wasn't her place to take all of that away from him. The rest of the town could look down on her, but she was doing what she had to do for her family. She wasn't going to be a hypocrite, everyone else be damned. Still, she was terrified that a murderer was on the loose, and she wanted to keep her family safe. She may have been at odds with many in Sherrinford, but no one deserved to be brutally killed. 

*****

John sat at the picnic table at The Big H, doing his chemistry homework. Luckily it wasn't too difficult, thanks to Sherlock's help. Sherlock was a natural, finding the subject material easy as pie. He had passed a note to John during class that said "BORED!" on it. John just rolled his eyes. He could tell Sherlock was itching to interrupt Mr. Turing several times during his lecture, but John had passed a note back to him that said "Don't even think about it. Mr. Turing knows his stuff. You just want to show off. If you want that after-school grope keep quiet."

Sherlock did as he was told.

When the bell rang ending the school day, John casually gathered his things and went to his locker. Sherlock had followed him but kept somewhat of a distance so it would look so obvious to other students. When John passed the secretarial wing where the typing classes were held, Sherlock pulled him into an empty classroom, shut the door, pressed John up against one of the desks and kissed him like it would be his last. He was all tongue, and John tasted the apple and milk he'd eaten for lunch. 

When it got too intense (and Sherlock's hand was down his pants, palming him), John pushed him away and told him that was enough for now, but he promised to call him after he got off work. That placated Sherlock, who left him with another breathtaking a kiss and a soft ruffle of his hair.

John finished his homework and put his books and papers into his bag. He walked into the office and set his bag down, and went into the parking lot. It was raining again, and there were no cars. 

Angelo came out and stood beside him. "What a boring night. Luckily we only have half an hour left and then I'm high-tailing it to home. I don't want to get fined for breaking curfew, or be out there late."

"Yeah. The good part is I was able to get my homework done, so I can just be cool for a while before I go to bed," John said. And to call Sherlock like he'd promised.

*****

Molly sat at her vanity, brushing her hair, wearing a pale yellow nightgown when she heard a ping at her window, startling her. She set her brush down and padded over to the window, pulling back the white lace curtains. She looked down and saw Greg standing underneath it, holding pebbles in his hand. She slid open the glass panel and called down to him. "Greg, what are you doing here?"

Greg, dropped the pebbles, got down on one knee, and folded his hands together, lifting them up towards the window.

"But, soft! what light through yonder window breaks? It is the east, and Molly is the sun."

Molly giggled. "You silly thing! Did you come here just to quote Shakespeare at me? Not bad I must say."

"Come down here," Greg said, grinning.

"But I'm in my nightgown!" 

"You're still dressed babe."

Molly shook her head and laughed. "Okay, I'll be down in a few. Go to the back door." She closed the window, and Greg saw her bedroom light go out. He headed for the backyard.

Molly walked out to meet him. Greg scooped her up into his arms and held her close, burying his face in her neck. He inhaled her fresh soapy scent. "Mmm, you smell wonderful."

"I took a bubble bath tonight."

"Shame I wasn't there."

Molly pulled back, eyes blown wide. "Gregory Lestrade, behave yourself. It's bad enough I had Carl Powers trying to get me into his car this afternoon."

Greg saw red. "He WHAT?"

"He saw me walking home from school and asked me if I needed a ride. I told him no, and he kept bothering me. I called him a nosy punk. He got mad and sped off." She looked down at her boyfriend's chest. "He said you abandoned me and accused you of making the story up about your mom in the hospital."

Greg was fuming. "I'm going to wring his filthy neck!"

Molly placed a placating hand on his chest. "Greg, don't. Just leave it. You know he's all mouth. Don't stir up trouble. He does that all by himself. We don't need to be mixed up in it."

"But Molly---"

She silenced him with a kiss. Greg wrapped his arms back around her and melted into her mouth.

Once they broke for air, Greg was all smiles again. "That was some kiss Molly Hooper. Where'd you to learn to do that?"

Molly giggled again. "The movies."

"Yeah? Well you keep watching those movies." He leaned in and kissed her again.

"It's almost curfew Greg. You should go home."

He nodded. "I'll pick you up tomorrow for school okay?"

"I'm looking forward to it." She pecked him on the cheek. "Love you."

"Love you too." He turned and she watched him leave. She sighed and leaned against the siding of the house, feeling a little guilty she didn't tell him she accepted a ride from Mycroft, but Mycroft was nothing like Carl. She'd have to tell him tomorrow. She wanted no secrets between them.

*****

It was nine-thirty, past curfew, but Carl didn't care. He was sitting by the pond at Regent's Park, listening to the ducks quack, the crickets chirp, and nursing his third beer. Molly Hooper was still on his mind. He'd come to develop an attraction to her even though she normally wasn't his type. Carl had always gone for the curvier, sexier girls who liked to play fast and loose, but he had grown tired of their flirty come-ons and their whining about wanting sex. Not an actual relationship, but quickies in the car or in the locker rooms after school. And Molly wasn't like that at all. She was petite, cute, and sweet. Then he heard her insult him, and he was more shocked then mad, and sped away. 

So here he sits alone, feeling sorry for himself, getting drunk to mourn a romance that never was. "Cheers," he croaked, holding up his beer can in the dark, toasting towards the black water.

He guzzled the amber liquid down and sighed, tossing the can in the sand towards the other two empty cans he threw earlier.

He heard a rustling behind him. He twist his head in the direction of the sound, and when he saw the figure dressed all in black, a fright mask hiding their face, menacingly raising up something shiny towards him, he was way too inebriated to scream, way too inebriated to move.

The ducks still quacked and the crickets still chirped along with a new sound. The sound of flesh being hacked up by the sharp and shiny blade of an axe.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rest in pieces Carl Powers.


	23. Cold, Cold Heart

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Still in shock from the murders of Phillip Anderson and Sally Donovan, the citizens of Sherrinford wake up to the news of Carl Powers' death. The killer makes another frightening call promising another murder, and one citizen finds themselves in great danger.

_Sherrinford Strand Morning Edition_

_September 7, 1961_

**TEENAGER FOUND BRUTALLY MURDERED - HAS SHERRINFORD SLAYER STRUCK AGAIN?**

**_Kitty Reilly_ **

The body of Carl Powers, age seventeen, was found at Regent's Park earlier this morning. Police confirm the teenager was a victim of homicide.

A fisherman approaching the pond around four-thirty this morning spotted what he first thought was a mannequin lying near the water. When he got closer, he realized it was the body of a young man and called police. Officer Dave Morstan recognized the corpse as that of Powers.

It is believed the weapon used in the murder was an axe. An autopsy is pending.

Carl Powers attended Culverton Smith High and was a championship wrestler. He is survived by his mother, Susan Powers, and father, Carl Powers Sr. He had no siblings.

At this time, police do not know if the murderer is the same one who brutally killed Phillip Anderson and Sally Donovan last Saturday during the annual Sherrinford Sock Hop.

The principal of Culverton Smith High, Harold Saxon, has decided to close the school for the rest of the week, but guidance counselors will be on hand at the school for students and staff to talk to. Classes will resume next Monday.

Mayor Jack Harkness advises residents to stick to the 9:00 pm curfew and to be aware of their surroundings.

*****

Kitty Reilly sat at her desk inside the newspaper office, reading her story. The attractive redhead never thought she would be reporting on brutal murders like this. She had moved to Sherrinford at age twenty-six, leaving San Francisco behind after a painful divorce from a cheating husband. She was a reporter for the city paper in her old hometown, covering the society pages. She wanted to be on the crime beat, but her boss at the time said that was no place for a woman. So she was stuck writing about boring and pretentious charity balls, weddings of prominent couples, and various parties and gatherings of the San Fran elite. 

She was shocked when her boss at The Strand, Matthew Smith, asked her to be the main reporter on the Sherrinford killings. "You're very talented Kitty, and if anyone can work these murders, it's you," he told her. 

The phone on her desk rang, interrupting her train of thought. She jolted slightly but composed herself and answered it. "Good morning, Sherrinford Strand, Kitty Reilly, how may I help you?"

"Ah, just the woman I want to talk to," an eerie, whispered voice said.

Kitty snorted. "Look, I have a lot of work to do, and I don't have the time for cranks trying to disguise their voice. Go bother the ladies down at Black Lotus Massage Parlor, I'm sure they'll be more open to whatever you're offering."

As she was hanging up the phone, the voice spoke again, cackling. "I'm far from a crank my dear. I'm what you oh so eloquently called in your little story today, The Sherrinford Slayer?"

Kitty froze. _No, this isn't the actual killer. It's just some creep getting his kicks. But what if it wasn't? What if it is the slayer? I need to stay on the line and take this seriously. I've got to think of my career, and the town._

"I'm sorry if I didn't believe you at first. What did you want to tell me?" She quickly pressed her recorder that was hooked up to her phone. Her boss had bought it for her after she started receiving weird calls from a man that turned out to be someone she interviewed for a story on a Fourth of July celebration.

"I had fun talking to Billy Wiggins, but I wanted to hear a different voice so I figured I'd call you since you're reporting my handiwork to the hypocrites of this town."

"Oh yes, I remember. You're angry with the residents. Someone's hurt you." Kitty fought to keep her voice calm.

"Yes. They've hurt more than just me though, and I'm making them pay."

"How did Carl Powers hurt you?" 

There was a beat of silence. Kitty thought she lost the call, but then they spoke again. "Powers was a bully. Using his words and his fists to make people do what they wanted. I saw him trying to harass that sweet little Molly Hooper yesterday afternoon."

Kitty made a mental note to go and talk to Molly. "How did he harass her?"

"She was walking down the street, probably home from school. He pulled beside her in his car and was talking to her. I knew he was trying to coax her into getting inside. I saw her say something back, she looked upset. Then he took off like a bat out of hell. He was a pervert and he deserved to die."

"So you're defending Molly Hooper's honor. Are you in love with her?"

The voice cackled again. "Don't be stupid. She's just a child. If it wasn't her, it would have been some other poor young girl. He never learned the meaning of the word no, and if you weren't like him, thinking like him, he'd go after you."

"Did he go after you?"

"Not me physically, but it did affect me in a big way. But nobody has to worry about him anymore."

Kitty couldn't help but shiver. She did hear that Carl could be intimidating, but he had parents who loved him, and now they've lost a son. "Carl may have been a bully, but he didn't deserve to die so brutally. What about his mother and father? They've lost a son thanks to you. Don't you care about how they're feeling?"

"I only care about mine, and making this town pay."

"I see. You know I'll be contacting the police about this call," Kitty replied firmly. She had to stay in control, or the killer would hang up. She needed to hear more, the better chance they'd incriminate themselves.

"Of course. I wouldn't expect you to keep this quiet. You're probably recording it."

 _Damn. This guy's smart._ "Yes I am."

"Wonderful! Maybe I'll call you again after I take a fourth victim."

"Just how many do you plan on killing?" Kitty's voice rose a bit and she winced at that. She didn't want to come off frightened.

"As many as I can, so Sherrinford will know I mean business, and everyone will learn their lesson and start being more tolerant and compassionate." The killer took a deep breath. "I must go now. Remember, you'll never know when or where I'll turn up. No one is safe. _No one_."

There was a click. Kitty pressed the stop button and hung up the phone. She sat there, staring at the receiver for a few minutes. And then she let out a scream that would have woken up all the dead in the entire state of California.

*****

Officer Dave Morstan and his team were at Regent's Park. He'd been there since five o'clock going over the crime scene, assisting in collecting evidence and looking for clues. The beer cans the late Carl Powers drank were bagged, and blood samples were taken. There had been a lot of blood. It had soaked into the sand and it had splattered on the jagged rocks near the pond, especially where Carl was sitting. 

It was like a scene from a horror film. Carl's body had been chopped up, his legs and arms messily and roughly hacked off. They weren't precise cuts, it had been sloppy and messy. The killer had also chopped off his penis, and stuffed it in his mouth. Whoever did this was trying to make a statement.

Hypocrites. That's what the killer kept saying. The town was full of hypocrites. Why Carl though? Sure, Dave thought, he was a bully, using his size to intimidate others. He chased after girls whether they wanted the attention or not. Did Carl have a run in with the killer prior to his murder and they exacted revenge? 

His daughter Mary told him how he and his friends crashed Janine Hawkins' slumber party with the attention of getting a thrill seeing the girls in their nightgowns or possibly naked, but they had forced him and his friends to wear nightgowns too and were invited to join them. Everyone said they had a good time, and Carl didn't make advances to any of the girls. So something else must have spurred his murder.

As he was trying to put together a motive, Officer James Sholto came up to him. "Dave, the station just got a frantic call from that reporter, Kitty Reilly. She said the killer called her at the newspaper. She's got the call on tape."

Dave's mouth dropped open in shock. The killer had been calling the radio station. Now he was calling the reporter covering the murders. 

"I'm heading down to the _Strand_ office right now. You stay here and keep watch," Dave commanded.

James nodded. "Yes sir."

*****

Molly was upstairs in her room, her face red and eyes puffy from crying. When she heard about Carl Powers' murder earlier that morning, she'd blamed herself.

"If only I hadn't said those awful things to him. I feel so guilty!"

Her mother Sylvia tried to comfort her. "Now Molly, it's not your fault. You did the right thing not going off with him. You were only protecting yourself."

"But he was so upset when I called him a nosy punk. He just took off." Molly started to sob again, burying her face in her mother's neck.

"Oh honey, please don't cry." Sylvia didn't know what else to say so she just rubbed her daughter's back and continued to hold her. She didn't want to leave her, but she and her father had to go to a funeral in Los Angeles and would have to go soon.

"Molly, you know your father and I have to go to this funeral. Will you be okay?"

Molly sniffled and nodded her head. "Yes, I'll be okay. I'm just going to stay in my room, read, listen to some music."

Sylvia kissed her forehead. "That's my girl. Maybe you can call one of your friends to come over."

"Maybe I will, but not right now. I just want to be alone."

Sylvia broke away from her daughter and smiled at her reassuringly. "Lock up the house okay? I'll call you later this afternoon."

"Okay Mom. I love you."

"I love you too sweetheart." Sylvia kissed her daughter again and left the room. Molly lay back on her bed and stared out the window. The skies were blue and a few puffy white clouds were drifting by. Maybe a walk outside would make her feel better and clear her head. She left her bedroom, and padded down the hall to the bathroom where she splashed some cold water on her face and fixed her hair. She took out the rubber bands, letting her hair hang loose. She ran her hands through it, smoothing it out. Satisfied with her appearance, she exited the bathroom and walked downstairs, and out the door.

*****

John was relaxing under some trees in his small backyard, radio tuned to KMOF. He was in utter disbelief that Carl Powers had been murdered. And his mother didn't want to leave him alone, but she had to go work. John promised her if he did go anywhere, it would be at a place where others would be around, like Speedy's or The Big H. 

He heard the sound of a motorcycle approaching and he knew it was Sherlock. John got up and made his way towards the front yard. He saw him get off his bike and remove his helmet. John thought nobody could be that elegant getting off a motorcycle, but Sherlock was. 

Sherlock smiled upon seeing John. He ran his long hands through his dark curls trying to tame them and John chuckled at the sight. "Cute," he told Sherlock.

Sherlock wrinkled up his nose, making him look like an offended cat. "Cute? Why not sexy, or devastatingly handsome?"

John snorted. "Don't push your luck Holmes. You're lucky to get cute today."

Sherlock frowned. "This latest murder's got you on edge."

"No shit Sherlock!" Then John's face softened. I'm sorry for snapping at you like that. I mean, I wasn't that friendly with Carl Powers, but I knew him better than Phillip and Sally. It's crazy."

Sherlock's expression was unmoved. "I met Carl. The day I ran off to Los Angeles to find you. He gave me a ride to Speedy's."

John's eyes widened. "You never told me that."

"There wasn't much to tell. He talked about his wrestling. Well, he bragged. He was very proud of his titles."

"Yeah, he made sure to let everyone know what a great wrestler he was."

"Did you know his father visited male prostitutes?"

John's mouth fell open. "What? Are you yanking my chain?" he asked incredulously. 

Sherlock shook his head. "I was in the jail cell next to his father the night I...well you know. He propositioned me."

"Jesus Christ." John furiously rubbed his forehead. "What the hell is happening to this town? It's like everyone's got skeletons in the closet, living secret lives."

"And here I thought Sherrinford was this boring slice of suburbia. It's proven me wrong, and I'm never wrong."

John gave him his best 'what the fuck look.' "Seriously Sherlock? Three kids have been murdered and a married father is visiting gay male hookers on the side, and that's your reaction? You're unbelievable."

"Will me caring about all of that bring those three kids back John? Or to stop Mr. Powers from his illicit trysts?" Sherlock looked at him sharply.

"No...but it's the principle of the thing. Surely you can understand." John groaned and shook his head. "Look, let's just forget about all of this okay?"

Sherlock shrugged his shoulders. "Fine by me." Then his lips quirked up in a smile. He reached out and brushed John's cheek with his knuckles. "I enjoyed our phone conversation last night."

John shuddered slightly at his touch. "It was nice."

"Have any plans for today?" Sherlock moved closer.

"No, just staying here. I was in the backyard when you drove up."

"Can I stay with you for a while? Nobody's at my house. Eurus is off doing god knows with Jim, and Mycroft and my parents decided to take a ride out of town to get away from what's been going on here."

"Sure. My mom's at work and won't be home until about five. I could use the company."

Sherlock followed John to the backyard and under the trees where he'd been laying. The two sat down in the grass. John leaned up against the tree trunk. Sherlock lay next to him, and placed his hand on John's chest, gently rubbing it.

The radio was still on, and the music got interrupted by the DJ's voice. "Okay folks, we've got breaking news regarding the Carl Powers murder. Earlier this morning, Sherrinford Strand reporter Kitty Reilly received a phone call that is believed to be from the killer. With the permission of the police, we are playing it live, for the first time."

Both John and Sherlock suddenly sat up, exchanging glances. John's was of dread, but Sherlock's was of anticipation.

As the two listened to the call, John began to shiver. Sherlock pulled him close. "It's okay John," he tried to reassure him.

When it got to the part where the killer mentioned Molly, John jumped up from the ground. "Oh God...the killer saw Molly! I've got to see if she's okay!"

Sherlock pulled John right back into his arms. "Don't worry about Molly John, she'll be fine. The killer isn't after her. Whomever killed Carl was probably already planning to do it. I think seeing him harass Molly gave him even more justification to commit the crime." He pressed a kiss to John's scalp, reveling in the fresh mint scent of his hair.

"How can you be so sure of this?" John asked, still not convinced.

"You heard the killer call Molly 'sweet.' He isn't angry with her. He's angry at Carl for being a bully. Carl didn't bully the killer, but someone he cared about, someone he loved."

The wheels in John's head were turning. "A spouse maybe? Their child? He's protecting someone he loves? But if that's the motive, why go after Phillip and Sally? From what I knew of them, they were two of the nicest people in town, not bothering anybody. If anything, it was others who were bothering them, for dating outside their race."

A huge grin broke out on Sherlock's face. "But eventually they stopped being bothered, right?"

John nodded. "Yeah. The last time I saw them, it was at the sock hop. I said hello and asked how they were, and Phillip said things were great. Nobody had bothered them or got on their case in months. They were planning to move away and live together." He looked at Sherlock, puzzled. "I don't understand."

"No you wouldn't---oh John, please, I'm not insulting your intelligence, it's just that my mind works differently from yours," Sherlock replied, trying to placate John, who was glaring at him. "The killer went after Phillip and Sally because people left them alone. Remember he said everyone are hypocrites? The killer is angry that some behavior is being accepted and some isn't. So he's killing those that are being left alone. To prove a point. That if you're tolerant of one behavior, you have to be tolerant of all behaviors."

Sherlock's words sunk into John as he thought about Sherlock's theory. Carl did get away with being a bully because many people didn't want to cross him for fear of being assaulted. Phillip and Sally's interracial relationship wasn't such a scandal anymore. So the killer was mad that more people weren't outraged at them, but he---or she--- had been hurt because something they're doing, or someone they care about had been hurt.

Sherlock watched John put the pieces together. He grew tingly seeing John's eyebrows furrow, his pink tongue dart out and roll around on those gorgeous lips of his. Sherlock just wanted to push him down and kiss the life out of him. He didn't think John truly knew just how beautiful he was.

Before he knew it, he reached out for John, cupping his face with his hands, leaning in, forehead pressed to his, his lips meeting his. It was a quick kiss, but full of love.

"You okay?" John asked when it was done.

"More than okay," Sherlock whispered.

*****

Molly found herself downtown. The walk had invigorated her and made her feel much better. She passed by Ventham's Pharmacy, the office where John's mom worked, the five and ten store, an assortment of shops and boutiques, Loki's Laundromat, eventually approaching the _Strand_ newspaper office. 

She saw a slightly older woman with shoulder length red hair wearing a white pencil skirt, lavender short-sleeved blouse and white headband talking to a man carrying a portable tape recorder and holding a microphone to her face. Molly's interest was piqued but she chose to keep her distance.

Suddenly, she felt herself being grabbed from behind and pulled into an alley, pushed up against a wall. She saw the enraged face of Carl Powers' father, who pressed a hand hard up against her mouth.

"You!" he hissed. "It's your fault my boy is dead! He told me he tried to give you a ride home and you turned him down...insulted him...he was trying to be nice to you...he liked you. Really liked you. And you treated him like dirt!"

Molly tried to scream but the hand clamped across her face prevented her from doing so. She began to struggle against the older man's strong grip.

She could only see Carl Sr.'s eyes, dark with fury, and she smelled the stale odor of beer in his breath. "Now I'm going to do to you what you did to my son!"

Molly's eyes widened with fear as she saw him raise up his right arm, hand morphed into a closed fist...

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cliffhanger time! Will someone come to Molly's rescue?


	24. Good Golly, Miss Molly

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Molly's run-in with Carl Powers Sr. leads to an impromptu ice cream date at Speedy's, a weird feeling she can't shake, and a nighttime visitor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short Molly-centric chapter with her being a total BAMF!

Molly at first was terrified. She was in an alley, being held captive by Carl Powers Sr., who had his fist raised and ready to strike when her fright turned to anger. How dare this adult try and hit her, a sixteen year-old child?

She somehow summoned up the strength to fight back. She lifted up her right knee and slammed it into the older man's balls. He cried out and released her, hands covering his crotch. Molly then kicked him hard in the shin, and he yelped again.

"How dare you!" Molly screamed. "You're just like your son! A bully and a thug! How dare you blame Carl's death on me! He should have been home, and not out past curfew! If he would have stayed home, he would be alive!"

Carl just stared at Molly, surprised to see such fury coming from a teenage girl. Then surprise turned to shame, and he fell to the ground in a heap and started to cry.

A few people ran into the alley, and their eyes and mouths dropped at seeing Molly, standing over Carl, fuming at him. Officer Dave Morstan arrived. He'd heard Molly screaming. "Molly! You okay?"

She nodded. "I'm fine Mr. Morstan.

He looked down at Carl. "What happened?"

"He pulled me into this alley, held me captive, and placed a hand over my mouth. He blamed me for his son's murder. He tried to hit me, but I fought back. He's drunk Mr. Morstan."

Dave stepped forward and pulled up Powers. "Is this true Carl? Did you grab Molly and try to assault her?"

Carl just nodded. "I'm sorry," he whispered.

"Look Carl, I'm sorry about what happened to your son. No one deserves that. And we're going to do everything in our power to catch this maniac, but getting drunk and trying to hit a child isn't going to bring him back! Now get out of here. Go home and comfort your wife."

Carl again looked at Molly, his face white and filled with sadness. "I'm sorry, it's just that---I know my son wasn't the nicest person, but I loved him, and he's gone. I'll never get to see him again."

"It's okay. Please forgive me for those things I said," Molly solemnly replied.

Dave escorted Carl out of the alley. The onlookers followed, and Molly stood there for a while, letting the events sink in. She leaned against the wall and let out a huge breath. Once she composed herself, she exited the alley. She was proud of herself for defending herself and not needing anyone to come to her rescue. Of course, she'd have to tell Greg and her parents what happened. She could only imagine the lectures she'd get.

Molly decided to treat herself to an ice cream at Speedy's. It was right across the street from the newspaper office. Then she would catch the bus home and stay put for the rest of the day. 

Molly entered the ice cream shop. She was about to sit on a stool at the counter when she heard someone call her name. She turned, and saw Henry Knight waving at her from a booth. She walked over to greet him. With him was Richard Wilkes, his boyfriend Sebastian's father.

"Hi Henry, Mr. Wilkes, how are you?"

"Okay." Henry looked away for a second and then back to Molly, his face less cheerful. "It's sad about Carl."

Molly nodded, trying to push the images of him and his drunken father out of her mind. "It is. I still can't believe it."

"Molly, have a seat with us. We haven't ordered yet," Richard told her, motioning for her sit.

Molly complied and sat next to Henry. "I just had a run-in with Carl's dad. He blamed me for his death and tried to attack me."

Henry quietly gasped, and Richard frowned. "What? But you're not to blame for his death Molly," Richard said.

"I know. But Mr. Powers was drunk, I guess he was drinking away his grief, and Carl told him about how I turned down his offer of a ride yesterday after school, and I called him a nosy punk. Apparently he was torn up about that."

Richard reached out and patted her hand. "It's not your fault dear. I hate to speak ill of the dead, but Carl Junior was not a nice boy. He bullied Henry for months until Sebastian put a stop to it, he bullied others..." Richard smiled sadly. "Forgive me, I shouldn't say such things---"

"No Mr. Wilkes, it's okay. None of us can change how he was. Maybe someone just got fed up with his behavior and decided to end it permanently."

"You really believe he was killed by someone he bullied? I think it's the same one who killed Phillip and Sally," Henry spoke.

"I don't know Henry. I don't know what to believe anymore. Everything's gotten so crazy. It's like a nightmare you can't wake up from." Molly looked down at her lap.

"I think we need to stop talking about these awful murders and order some ice cream," Richard suggested. "It's not healthy for us to dwell on this."

 "I agree," Henry said.

Richard saw the waitress and waved, signaling her to come over. After orders were placed, Molly sat back in the seat, feeling much more relaxed. She turned to Henry. "So Henry, where's Sebastian at today?"

"He's not feeling well. He woke up this morning with a slight fever and chills. I asked him if he wanted me to stay home with him but Gloria is there."

"And I wanted to treat Henry to some ice cream. I took off work today since school's been cancelled," Richard explained.

 Molly nodded but for some reason, there was something niggling at the back of her mind, and she couldn't figure out what it was, or why she had that feeling.

*****

"Molly, what on God's earth possessed you to go off by yourself, and all the way downtown!" Sylvia Hooper reprimanded her daughter. She'd just learned what happened to her with Carl Powers Sr. 

"I don't know, I was feeling restless and sad and I thought a walk would make me feel better. I kept walking and then before I knew it, I was downtown. I certainly wasn't expecting Carl's dad to attack me!"

"Oh Molly, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to...it's just that these murders have got me on edge, and you were all alone." Sylvia hugged her daughter tightly. "If anything happened to you..."

"I'm sorry Mom. I didn't mean to upset you," Molly lamented.

"It's okay." Sylvia looked her daughter, then a angry glare crossed her face. "Carl Powers has a lot to answer for."

"Well, I don't think he'll bothering me again. I'm sure his groin and ankles will remind him of that."

Sylvia had to laugh. "At least there's that. Where did you learn those moves?"

"Mary Morstan. Her dad made her do self-defense and she taught it to me, Janine, and Sarah. Remember when that purse snatcher was on the loose last summer?"

"Oh yes! And he turned out to be a very large fourteen year-old who wanted money to buy baseball cards." Sylvia shook her head. "If we're going to have crime, I'd rather it be a purse snatcher than a psycho killer."

"Me too Mom. Me too."

*****

Greg had called Molly after dinner and she filled him in on the incident with Carl. Greg was horrified, but Molly assured him she was fine and that Carl will probably think twice about going after her again. 

"I wish I could have been there with you, but Mom's still in a lot of pain. She's being released from the hospital on Friday."

"Your Mom needs you. I can take care of myself."

"Yes you can! I'm so proud of you babe. I think the football team could use you."

Molly laughed. "I don't think I'm ready to suit up just yet, but you never know."

The two hung up, and Molly lay on her bed, staring out her window. The sun was still up, but in a couple of hours it would be dark. She wondered if anyone else would die tonight, and a shiver ran through her body. 

As the day's events replayed in her head, that niggling feeling came back to her again. It was if her brain was trying to tell her something, but what? She sighed in frustration and closed her eyes, trying to focus.

Several minutes later, she was asleep.

*****

Molly woke up to the sound of rain on her window. She sat up, stretched, and looked at her alarm clock. It was seven o'clock. She had slept for an hour. 

Molly kicked off her shoes and put them in her closet. She left her room and went downstairs. Her mother was sitting on the sofa, listening to the radio. "Hi honey. Your father's in the garage. The station wagon is making funny sounds again so he's tinkering with it trying to figure out what's wrong. I told him to take it down to Zeke's but you know how he is."

Molly chuckled. "Dad's always been self-reliant."

"So are you."

Molly sat down next to her mom and put her head on her chest. "I love you Mom."

"I love you too dear. How about we treat ourselves to some lemonade?"

"Sounds great."

Sylvia got up to go to the kitchen. Just then the doorbell rang.

"I'll get it Mom." Molly moved to answer it. Kitty Reilly stood at the door. "Good evening Miss Hooper. I'm Kitty Reilly from _The Strand_. May I have a word with you?"

Molly shot her a puzzled look. "What about?"

"You mean you haven't heard?"

Molly shook her head. "Heard what?"

"The killer called me today at the newspaper office. He specifically mentioned your name."

Molly's face went white, and she began to feel light-headed. "Oh my God. Please come in."

Kitty entered the living room. Sylvia came in holding two glasses of lemonade. "Molly, who's this?"

"My name is Kitty Reilly. I'm a reporter for _The Strand."_

"Oh yes...you're the one writing the articles on the murders. But what are you doing here?" Sylvia asked.

"I wanted to talk to you daughter Mrs. Hooper."

Sylvia looked at her sharply. "What for?"

"Mrs. Hooper, the killer called me this morning and mentioned Molly. I wanted to ask your daughter some questions."

"The killer mentioned Molly? She cast a confused glance at her daughter. "I don't understand...oh God, is Molly in danger? Is he after her next? Oh God...oh God!"

Those were her last words before she fell to the ground in a faint, the glasses of lemonade crashing to the floor with her.

 


	25. I Get Ideas

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kitty Reilly interviews Molly. Eurus asks Sherlock to assist her in deducing the identity of the killer, but he has a warning for her. John and his mother notice a suspicious car prowling near The Big H.

"Mom!" Molly shouts after seeing her mother fall to the floor. She rushes to her, gently smacking her cheeks. "Mom, wake up!"

Kitty joins Molly. "I'm sorry, I had no idea..."

"No it's okay. She's just in shock." Molly lightly smack her mother's cheek again. "Wake up Mom."

Slowly, Sylvia Hooper came to. "What---what happened?" She looked from Molly to Kitty in confusion. 

"You fainted Mom, after Miss Reilly said the killer mentioned my name in his call to her," Molly quietly explained. 

"Oh God. This is such a nightmare." She looked down. "The floor is wet. Oh no, the lemonade!"

"Don't worry about that, I'll clean it up." Molly and Kitty helped Sylvia up and onto the couch. 

"I apologize Mrs. Hooper. But when the killer mentioned Molly's name, I had to come here and talk to her. With your permission of course," Kitty said.

"What did that nut say about my daughter?" Sylvia demanded.

"He said he saw Carl Powers harass Molly the day of the murder, and it made him angry."

"Molly, did you see anything out of the ordinary yesterday?" Sylvia asked her daughter.

She shook her head. "No. Only Carl being...well, being Carl. I went to The Big H afterwords and had a soda. I chatted with Ella, one of the waitresses for a while. It was very slow with customers. Then I..."

Molly's voice trailed off. She'd never said anything about getting a ride with Mycroft Holmes. She'd have to admit it. "Then I caught a ride back home...with Mycroft."

"Molly!" Sylvia scolded. Kitty's eyebrows raised in curiosity.

"Mom, he was a perfect gentlemen. Nothing happened. We talked for a bit about school and he drove me straight home. And if you think he's involved in these murders, I don't believe it. He doesn't know anybody here, he'd have no reason to do any of this."

"Well, that's true. And you're fine, so let's just forget about it," Sylvia answered.

"There was something though." Molly turned to Kitty. "This morning, Carl Powers' dad cornered me downtown and blamed me for his son's murder. He tried to attack me but I fought back."

"So that was the commotion I heard. I tried to follow, but Officer Morstan told me to stay put."

"He came to see if I was okay, and he told Carl's dad to go home. Then I went to Speedy's, and ran into Henry Knight and Mr. Wilkes. They invited me to have ice cream with them. While I was with them, I started getting this weird feeling that something wasn't right. I can't explain it."

"Miss Reilly, do you know anything about the Wilkes?" Sylvia Hooper asked.

"Not much, except they're very rich and prominent, and Mrs. Wilkes does a lot for charity."

"They have a son, Sebastian. He likes to go after young teenage boys. None of the parents pressed charges, they were intimidated by the family's social standing. Henry Knight is his latest, and he lives with Sebastian and Sebastian's parents. I really can't speak out of turn. Ever since Henry moved in, Sebastian has been pretty quiet, and Mr. & Mrs. Wilkes have done a lot for Henry. He was kicked out of his home and had nothing. They really love that boy. Most parents wouldn't condone that type of lifestyle, but they do. I get this feeling, especially when I see Mrs. Wilkes, that she's hiding something. She came to the town hall meeting the other night at the church and sat in the last row, not saying a word. I smiled at her and thanked her for coming. But others treat her like a pariah because of her son, and they've said some nasty things."

Kitty thought about what Sylvia said. "Are you trying to tell me in a roundabout way you suspect Gloria Wilkes of doing these murders? Lashing out at those who've treated her and her son wrong?"

"I don't want to accuse anyone but it's possible. Oh I know it sounds silly, and I have no proof. It could be anyone."

"And that's the scary part of this Mrs. Hooper." Kitty smiled wanly at the two ladies. "Well, thanks for your time. I'd better get home, curfew's starting soon. Goodnight Molly, Mrs. Hooper. I'll see myself out."

After Kitty left, Sylvia turned to her daughter. "Let's drag your father out of the garage. The car can wait until morning. I'll feel safer knowing we're all locked up tight inside."

*****

John walked towards his mother's car in the parking lot of The Big H carrying two big paper bags and a pizza box that sat on top. Mrs. Hudson had loaded him down with chicken tenders, french fries, a couple of cheesesteak subs and a large pepperoni pizza. His mom Wanda watched from the driver's seat, laughing at seeing her short son haul out all that food. She stepped out of the car, taking the pizza box and bags and putting them in the back seat. "I think you're set for the rest of the week!" she joked.

"Angelo's coming out with our shakes. Mrs. H apparently feels I'm not growing fast enough," John said, shaking his head. 

"Well, we've got plenty to make some meals so I don't have to worry about cooking."

"And you've got your date Friday night with Mr. Auden," John reminded her with a sly grin.

"It's not a date, he's just taking me out to dinner as a friend."

"Keep telling yourself that Mom."

"John Hamish Watson!" she scolded. "Hold your tongue."

"Okay." John stuck his tongue out and grabbed it with his hand.

Wanda rolled her eyes. "Instead of wanting to be a doctor, you should get a job as a comedian."

John looked past his mom to the other side of a street. He saw a pristine white Cadillac sedan sitting there. Any other time, he wouldn't think of it. But with the murders, and curfew being half an hour away, there was something very suspicious about it.

"John, you okay?" Wanda asked.

"I'm not sure. I'm getting a creepy vibe from this car sitting across the street."

Wanda turned her head in John's direction. "That car looks very familiar..." She stopped talking to inspect it some more. Then she gasped. "I recognize it now! It's Gloria Wilkes' car!"

"Sebastian's mom? Why would she be scoping this place out? She's really never in this part of town unless she has to be," John mused.

"I don't know, but we shouldn't make it our business. Especially not after that ugly mess with Sebastian last year." Wanda hopped in her car.

John saw Angelo walk out with two Styrofoam cups. "Here you go. Two large brown cows. Sorry about the wait, the machine was acting up. I think it knows curfew's coming."

John laughed. "Thanks Angelo. I'll see you tomorrow afternoon." John was working a noon-five shift tomorrow. 

"No problem. You and your mom get home safe. Mrs. H. and I will be leaving soon after."

"We will. Goodnight."

John got in the car and he and his mom took off. Angelo saw the car across the street start up too and head in the same direction. He thought that was weird and a bit spooky. With that crazy murderer on the loose, he couldn't be sure of anything anymore.

Mrs. Hudson was now coming towards him. "Angelo, everything okay?"

"I'm not sure Martha. John and his mom just left, and a car parked across the street started up and followed them. Maybe I'm being paranoid, but there's something not right about it."

"I'll call the police. Better safe than sorry. If something happened to John and Wanda, I'd never forgive myself." She hurried back inside.

Angelo watched the spot where the car had been. He couldn't help but shudder, wondering if whomever had killed Phillip, Sally, and Carl Powers, were now targeting the Watsons.

*****

Sherlock glared at his sister, who stood in the doorway of his bedroom. "What do you want?"

"I've come to ask for your help brother mine," Eurus replied. 

Sherlock was taken aback. There was no malice in her voice, nothing that indicated whatever she was going to ask had some catch to it. Still, he was wary. "I'm listening."

"Good." She closed the door and flopped down on his bed. "I want your assistance in deducing the Sherrinford Slayer."

"Sherrinford Slayer...oh, that's the utterly ridiculous name that reporter gave the killer," Sherlock replied dismissively.

"I think it's cool."

Sherlock sniffed. "You would."

"Oh come on Sherlock, don't be such a bloody snob. I'm dating a greaser and you're lusting after a carhop. There's no need to be so self-righteous."

Sherlock sighed, a bit too dramatically. "All right, I'll offer my help. But I'm going to warn you now---if this is some ruse to get me to let my guard down because you want me to join Sheridan six feet under---I won't hesitate to tell everyone in this town what kind of person you really are and what you did to our brother. And your precious greaser Jimmy will be first to know."

Eurus blanched, and Sherlock smiled in satisfaction. "Do we have a deal?"

"Yes," she quickly replied. She didn't want her relationship with Jim Moriarty to be sabotaged. She genuinely cared for him.

Sherlock leaned back on his pillows, hands under his chin. "No doubt you've heard the killer's latest crazed rant?"

"Yes. He's getting out of control. Not very becoming for a murderer who doesn't want his identity known."

"You would know," Sherlock retorted.

"And you're getting off track," Eurus spat.

"I've already told John I believe the killer is seeking revenge believing the town is too forgiving of one 'sin' and not another."

"Yes, I've come to that conclusion." Eurus shot her brother a smug grin. "I actually did manage to make a few acquaintances at school who tolerate my presence. They told me about Sally Donovan and Phillip Anderson's interracial relationship, and that the late Carl Powers was a bully crippled by his massive ego. So whatever the killer's suffered, it seems Sherrinford is not quite so forgiving when it comes to him.

"And we're sure it's a him?"

"Most definitely. I know women can be extremely capable killers, after all I am one, but this to me screams male."

"So do you have any suspects?"

"Not yet. But I haven't been here long enough to really put together a list of people who would fit the bill. But whomever it is, they're married and have a child. They're protecting a loved one, either the spouse or the child. Which could be anyone in town really, but it's someone that's been here for a long time and knows the right places to commit their crimes. He also likes to take risks. Murdering two people in a parking lot during a very crowded dance where anyone could have come out and seen something, he's definitely not the shy type."

The phone on Sherlock's dresser rang. "Let me see who that is," he said, getting up to answer it. "Hello."

"Hey Sherlock it's John."

"Hi John, how are you?"

"Well, I'm okay now. But something creepy happened to me a little earlier."

Sherlock frowned sharply. "What? Where are you?"

"I'm home."

"Okay good. Now tell me what happened."

"Mom and I were waiting for food at The Big H when I saw this car across the street and for some reason it gave me the heebie-jeebies---"

"Heebie-jeebies? Honestly John, sometimes your vocabulary can be---"

"Do you want to know what happened or not?" 

"Of course I do."

"Then stop being a word snob and let me finish."

Sherlock harrumphed. "Fine then."

"Anyway, I got spooked seeing this car. If these murders didn't happen, I wouldn't think it weird. I told my mom, and she recognized the car. It belongs to Gloria Wilkes."

"Who's that?" 

"Sebastian's mom. Remember I told you about him?"

"Oh yes, I remember now. Go on John."

"Well, I thought it out of the ordinary, because she hardly ever comes to that part of town. And then when Mom and I left, the car started following us."

Sherlock's face turned even paler and he gripped the phone tightly. "Oh God John."

"Mom turned down another street and the car stopped following. We managed to make it home a few minutes before nine and she called the cops, but turns out Mrs. H already did it, and they said they were going to check it out."

"Well, as long as you're okay," Sherlock said, internally heaving a sigh of relief.

"I'm fine, just a little rattled. Mom's hot though. She's ready to go over to the Wilkes' house and give them a piece of her mind."

Sherlock chuckled. "Yes, your mother is a spitfire, just like you."

"Damn straight."

"Can I see you tomorrow? How about we go out to the Belgrave mansion again?"

"How about we go to the beach instead?"

Sherlock grinned. "I'd like that."

"I'll pick you up at ten tomorrow, is that okay?"

"That's fine. I'll see you tomorrow. Have a good night John."

"You too. Goodnight Sherlock."

Sherlock hung up the phone, a wide smile on his face. "I have a date tomorrow for the beach with John."

"That's not important," Eurus dismissed. "Something else happened to John tonight."

"He and his mother were followed home tonight."

"Do they know who it was?"

Sherlock nodded. "Gloria Wilkes."

"That name sounds familiar---wait, she was at that country club dance you chose not to attend. Mummy and Father were talking to her."

"John had a run-in with her son last year."

"Hmm, this is most interesting," was all Eurus said.

The phone rang again. Sherlock answered it, probably John again. "Hello...oh hello Jim, she's here. Hold on." Sherlock rolled his eyes at Eurus. "It's your boyfriend."

"I'll take it in my room." She hopped off the bed and rushed out of Sherlock's room. Sherlock picked up the receiver, making sure his breath wasn't heard. A few moments later, he heard his sister's voice, calling Jim "sweetie" and making kissing noises into the phone. Sherlock quietly hung up. The last thing he wanted to hear from her was sickeningly sweet lovey-dovey talk.

*****

"Okay, let me get this straight Mr. Wilkes, you have no idea where your wife is?" Officer James Sholto sternly asked as he stood inside the Wilkes' massive living room.

"No, I don't, and I'm very worried," Richard Wilkes answered, wringing his hands. "Gloria's been on edge lately, ever since these murders started. She didn't even tell me she was leaving. I was in the study going over some reports when I heard a car pull out of the driveway. I went to the front door and I saw my wife's car was gone. At first I thought she was out to see a friend or get something from the store, but when she didn't return before curfew, I called you. I can't believe she would follow John Watson and his mother with the intent to harm them. I know there was that nasty business with Sebastian last Christmas, but I thought everything had been settled."

"Mr. Wilkes, has your wife pulled any disappearing acts like this before?" 

Richard shook his head. "No. Gloria is a happy, level-headed woman."

Just then, the doorbell rang. "I'll get that," Richard said. He went to answer the door, and saw Officer Dave Morstan. Dread and worry crossed his face. "Officer Morstan, is it about Gloria? Please tell me you have some good news."

Dave said nothing, and Richard's stomach lurched. He fought to keep the bile down in his throat. "Oh my God."

"Mr. Wilkes, may I come in?" Dave asked.

"Yes, yes, of course." Richard moved so he could enter, and he shut the door. "Do you know where my wife is?"

Dave nodded gravely. "We found her at the Belgrave mansion about five minutes ago, lying on the living room floor. It seems she overdosed on pills. She's been rushed to Gatiss General."

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so something's going on with Gloria...is it a guilty murderer's conscience, or is there more to it? The killer will be revealed within the next several chapters!


	26. Too Much

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Wilkes family is in crisis mode. Wanda prepares for her date with Hal. Sherlock and John head for the beach.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally, an update! This work has not been abandoned!

Richard Wilkes, his son Sebastian, and Sebastian's boyfriend Henry Knight were sitting inside a small windowless room inside the emergency room of Gatiss General Hospital, anxiously waiting for news regarding Gloria, Richard's wife and Sebastian's mother. Earlier that evening, she had attempted suicide at the Belgrave Mansion, swallowing almost an entire bottle of tranquilizers.

Richard sat hunched over, heads in his hands, while Sebastian sat close to Henry with his head on Henry's shoulder. He was still a little weak from being sick with a fever and chills. 

The silence began to become unbearable, and Richard shot out of his chair. "God, when will they tell us something!" he yelled out. He started pacing the floor.

"I know, it's hard sitting here like this, not knowing anything," Henry said quietly. Sebastian took his hand and began caressing it, his head burrowing deeper into the crook of his neck.

Richard stopped to smile at Henry. "I'm really glad you're here. You're not only a comfort to me but to Sebastian."

"I wish there was something more I could do."

"You don't need to do anything except love my son."

The door swung open, and a short man with thinning blond hair entered the room, a sober expression on his face. "Mr. Wilkes? I'm Doctor Tobias Jones."

Richard immediately went to him. "Yes, that's me...how's my wife? Is she going to be okay?" Sebastian sat up, squeezing Henry's hand, eyes wide with anxiousness.

"Yes, but she's very weak right now. We pumped a very large amount of Valium from her stomach. We did give her morphine for pain, and she's sleeping. We will need to admit her to the psychiatric ward for an evaluation."

Everyone breathed a sigh of relief. Richard began to wring his hands. "Psychiatric evaluation?"

Doctor Jones nodded. "It's standard procedure for all suicide attempts we treat here. It's not meant to punish patients, but part of continuing care."

"Can we see her?" Richard asked.

"Of course. We moved her into a private room in the ER. Once she's awake and alert, she'll be moved to the third floor. Follow me." 

"I'll stay here," Henry said. You and Sebastian go."

"No Henry, I want you with me. Please," Sebastian pleaded, on the verge of tears.

Henry looked at his boyfriend. He'd never seen him so sad and pale. "Okay Sebby, don't cry. I'll come." He patted his hand.

Sebastian gave him a weak smile. "Thanks."

The two boys got up and followed Richard and the doctor out the door. Doctor Jones led them down the hall to the ER wing, which was bustling with medical staff going in every direction. "Luckily it hasn't been too busy tonight," he said conversationally.

Doctor Jones took the men all the way down to the end of the hallway. "These are the private rooms. Mrs. Wilkes is in room three." He softly knocked on the door, then opened it.

Gloria Wilkes was asleep in bed, bundled up with a yellow blanket on top of her. She was a little pale, but looked very peaceful. Her shoulder-length brown hair glowed under the dim lights. An IV with a morphine drip was hooked up to her right arm.

"I'll leave you alone. If you need anything, press the call button. Janet is Mrs. Wilkes' nurse." Doctor Jones left the room.

There were two plastic chairs on either side of the bed. Richard sat in one and Sebastian sat in the other. Henry parked himself on the floor against the wall by the door.

Richard took his wife's hand and squeezed it. "I'm here sweetheart. So are Sebastian and Henry. You really scared us tonight, but we're glad you're okay and you'll be coming home soon, and we're going to work this out, whatever's bothering you, I promise."

Sebastian kept quiet, guilt and shame flooding over him like a wave in a sea storm. He hadn't made things easy for his mother. His temper, fighting with others in town (but that was mostly self defense from the tired onslaught of slurs about his sexual preference), and his attraction to younger boys---he knew it had taken a toll on her. She had to deal with a father who preferred men and he killed himself over it, now she had to deal with a gay son. He knew she loved him, but it was tough under all the scrutiny and outrage. He'd never thought she would try to kill herself and now he wondered how things would be and if his mother would ever be the same.

His stomach suddenly lurched, and he clutched it with both hands. He stood up, waves of nausea pulsing through his lower half. Henry and Richard took notice and became worried.

"Sebby, you okay?" Henry asked, getting off the floor.

"I'm going to be sick," Sebastian croaked. He saw a door that led to the bathroom and rushed inside, bending over the sink and retching. Henry quickly followed him, rubbing his back as he heaved a few more times. Once he was done, he turned on the tap and rinsed out his mouth, then splashed the cool water on his face. Henry grabbed some paper towels from a dispenser mounted on the wall and handed them to Sebastian.

"Thanks babe." He wiped his face and threw them in the trash can. "Jesus, I'm a fucking mess."

Richard appeared in the doorway. "Sebastian?" 

"I'm okay Dad. It's just this virus I've got, and then seeing Mom---it's a bit of a shock. I'll be fine."

"Come back and sit down son. You need to rest too."

Sebastian went back in the room and sat back down, pulling Henry with him onto his lap and wrapping his arms around the younger boy, instantly feeling comforted by the warmth and closeness.

Richard took hold of his wife's hand again, and leaned back in his chair, closing his eyes.

A few moments later, Gloria slowly opened her eyes, squinting at the dim lights above her. The last thing she remembered was putting her head down on the floor after taking a bunch of Valium, feeling like she was trapped in a fog. She turned her head and saw her husband next to her, holding her hand. She turned again and saw Sebastian and Henry cuddled up together.

Gloria realized she was in a hospital bed. She was alive. They'd gotten to her and saved her. Somebody did care. Now maybe others would too.

*****

John awoke to the smell of bacon frying. His nose twitched and he sat up in bed with a smile. Mom was making breakfast. He got out of bed and opened up his door, heading through the living room and into the small kitchen where Wanda Watson was standing at the stove with a fork in her hand. "Good morning Johnny. I don't have to go in until nine today, so I thought I'd make us something hot."

"Smells good Mom." He yawned as he opened the fridge and pulled out a carton of orange juice.

The phone rang. "I'll get that," John said. He picked it up from the wall. "Hello, Watson residence. Oh hi Mike. Yeah I work today at noon..." He realized he told Sherlock last night he could go to the beach with him. He forgot he had to work! Now he'd have to call him and tell him their day together was off. Well, there was tomorrow.

Mike's words brought John back into the conversation. "Switch with you for tomorrow? Yeah I can do that, I can work from three to seven. That actually works out, because I forgot I was on the schedule for today and I made plans like an idiot. Okay great. Thanks a lot. Bye friend!"

He hung up with a huge grin on his face. "I've got off today. Mike's taking my shift and I'm working for him tomorrow from three to seven. He has to go to his grandmother's 70th birthday party tomorrow in Baskerville."

"So what are you going to do today then?" his mother asked.

"Going to the beach."

"By yourself?"

"No Mom. I'm going with...well uh...Sherlock wanted to come."

Wanda set her fork down. "Just you two?"

"Yeah. Is that okay? I know you're still worried about him---"

"I am. But he hasn't done anything and you're okay, and it is the beach, so a lot of people will be there."

"He's not going to try anything with me, I'll let him have it if he does," John firmly promised. "It's just going to be swimming and lunch. I'm his ride, so if he acts up, I'll strand him there."

"Well for both our sake let's hope he's on his best behavior," Wanda steely replied.

The phone rang again and John answered it. "Hello, Watson residence."

"Hi John," came Sherlock's baritone.

John chuckled. "Well speak of the devil, I was just talking about you. Are we still on for the beach?"

"Of course. You did say ten right?"

"Mmm-hmm and that's in an hour and a half. Make sure you eat before we leave."

"Eating is boring John."

"So is staying home, because that's what you'll be doing if you don't get something in that ritzy stomach of yours."

Sherlock sighed, a little too dramatic for John's liking. "As you wish John."

"Good. I'll pick you up at ten. 221 Baker Street yes?"

"Yes John. I can't wait to see you."

"Okay I'll be there. And eat!"

Sherlock laughed. "Bye John."

John hung up the phone. "Speaking of eating, is that bacon done yet Mom?"

*****

Sherlock waited impatiently at the front door, duffel bag on the ground by his feet, looking down the road for John's red car. When he saw it coasting towards his house, he smiled.

He watched with baited breath as John maneuvered the car up his winding driveway and stopped right in front of him. "Someone call for a taxi?" John teased with a grin.

"No, but I did call for a very handsome chauffeur," Sherlock replied.

John laughed and reached over to open the door for Sherlock, who grabbed his bad and hopped in the car. "Nice ride John," he said appreciatively.

"Thanks." John started back down the driveway. "You were anxious to get out of the house I see."

"I just wanted to be with you." Sherlock reached over and kissed his cheek.

"Hey, cool it! You do want to make it to the beach in one piece right?"

Sherlock smirked. "Am I that much of a distraction?" He cheekily placed a hand on John's right thigh.

John chuckled. "I'm gonna make you drive home from the beach and I'm gonna sit next to you and grope _you_ the whole way back."

"Mmm, I'd like that John."

"Of course you would."

Sherlock kissed him on the cheek again and then sat back in the seat, utterly relaxed and completely in love.

*****

The beach wasn't that crowded. John and Sherlock found a spot in the sand closer to the shore and set their blankets down. John stripped off his T-shirt (which did not go unnoticed by Sherlock, the lustful gaze being a dead giveaway).

"God John, you're like a compact Adonis. So beautiful." Sherlock was sorely tempted to reach out and caress John's abdomen, but he knew the few that were on the beach would not take so kindly to see a gesture of affection from one boy towards another.

John seemed to have read his mind. "Thank you, but you'd better keep your admiration to yourself. We don't want to get thrown off the beach for public indecency." He sat down and reached for a bottle of sunblock in his duffel bag and began to rub it on the front of his chest, down his legs, on his arms, and on his face. He would ask Sherlock to rub it on his back, but again, someone would take offense.

An attractive strawberry blonde teenage girl noticed John struggling to put sunblock on his back and walked up to him. "Need some help?" she asked in a friendly tone.

Sherlock fought not to glare at her. _He's mine, don't touch him_ , he angrily thought, but he knew if he tried to make a claim, it wouldn't end well.

"Sure," John replied. "Can you also put some on my friend's back too?"

The girl gave Sherlock a dazzling grin. "Certainly. I wouldn't turn down a chance to rub down a gorgeous guy like you."

Sherlock opened his mouth to retort, but John placed a hand on his shoulder and shook his head, giving the other boy a look that mentally said not now.

The girl knelt down behind both boys and using John's sunblock, rubbed it in on each of their backs. "I'm giving you a second dab, you're so pale you'll burn easily," she told Sherlock.

"At least I won't get skin cancer," Sherlock huffed.

"Don't mind him, he gets in these moods," John appeased.

"You know, you look familiar," the girl spoke to John. "Have I seen you here before?"

"Tons of times this summer," he answered.

"Oh wait---now I remember! You're friends with Victor. He's dating my brother Eddie."

"You're Eddie's sister?"

"Yep! Melissa Van Coon, but call me Missy."

"Can I ask you something personal?" John asked quietly.

"Sure, go ahead." She put the cap back on the bottle. "All done."

John turned around to face Missy. "Are you okay with Eddie being gay?"

"I have no problem with it. Us girls can be complicated. Not to say he hasn't tried dating a girl, but after four attempts at having a girlfriend and not feeling the attraction, he realized he was into dudes. He's had to keep it under wraps for obvious reasons. And poor Victor is so closeted...but those two are so sweet on each other."

John nodded. "I feel bad for Victor. If his parents weren't so strict, he'd been out years ago."

"Yeah, but that's how society rolls right now. Well, it's been fun, but my girlfriends are probably wondering what happened to me. I'd better get back to them before they send for the cavalry. Bye!" She stood up and was off with a wave.

John turned to Sherlock. "You're such a jealous baby. She was clearly not interested in me."

Sherlock sniffed. "It's a good thing too. I don't share."

John pushed him away. "Let's catch some waves Mr. Possessive." He leaped up and rushed towards the shore, Sherlock following right behind him.

*****

Sherlock and John were sitting beneath a sand dune, sharing a pepperoni pizza from a takeout box and drinking Cokes. Sherlock took advantage of the two of them being alone, and he rested his head on John's shoulder, loving the warmth and closeness of him, wishing the two of them could stay like this forever. He knew it was a silly fantasy, but he rarely fantasized, until he met John.

John put down his slice of pizza to ruffle Sherlock's loose dark curls. "You look a lot more handsome with curly hair," he murmured.

Sherlock just smiled and leaned into John even more. "Thank you."

The two of them sat like that for a while, in comfortable silence, listening to the calming sounds of the crashing waves and the crying seagulls, no doubt looking for scraps in the sand. John resumed eating his pizza, and Sherlock picked the gooey cheese that had slid off the slices and in the box, munching on them happily.

For a moment in time, it was pure bliss for the two of them. And nobody could take that away from them.

*****

John had returned home a little before five. He'd dropped Sherlock off and was now safely inside his bedroom, listening to records and reading comic books.

Wanda was in her bedroom, getting ready for her dinner date with Hal Auden, who was picking her up at five-thirty. They would be going downtown to Leonard's Restaurant, and then to Speedy's for ice cream. 

She slipped into a peach eyelet sundress and put a pair of tan Dr. Scholl's sandals on her feet. She put her hair into a ponytail and applied a coat of pale pink lipstick on her mouth. She had no other makeup on, as it was still quite warm out and most of it would sweat off anyway.

Satisfied with her appearance, she walked into the living room and sat down on the couch, waiting for Hal.

John chose this time to go into the kitchen to make some popcorn. When he saw his mom, he grinned. "You look real pretty Mom," he complimented.

Wanda smiled back. "Thanks honey. What are you up to?"

"Gonna pop some popcorn." 

Wanda watched fondly as John went into the kitchen and began to make his snack, pleasant memories of she, Ham, John, and Harriet buying their bags of popcorn at the drive- in and watching the latest movies. When she and Ham had a little extra leftover in their paycheck, they would go to the drive-in as a treat. She and her husband would stay in the car while the kids sat in front on a blanket. 

 _Oh Ham, I hope I'm doing the right thing by agreeing to this date with Hal, even if it's just as friends. It's been so long since I've been out with a man. I miss you so much_ , she thought to herself.

The sound of a car pulling up burst her thoughts. "I think that's Mr. Auden," John said.

"I'm so nervous Johnny!" Wanda replied, folding her hands tightly.

"Relax Mom, everything will be fine. Don't worry. The both of you are going to have a swell time."

Wanda took a deep breath and stood up. "Yes, yes we are." She took another deep breath, allowing the tension to drain out of her body and headed for the door.

Soon there was a knock, and Wanda opened it up. It was Hal, dressed in jeans and a short-sleeved white dress shirt. He carried a bouquet of carnations in colors of red, pink, and white. "Hi Wanda. He presented the flowers to her. "These are for you."

"Thanks Hal, they're lovely." She inhaled the mild, sweet scent of the blooms. "I'm going to put these in water and then we can go." She walked into the kitchen and opened up one of the cupboard doors, fetching a glass vase from it. She poured water in the vase and gently set the flowers inside, placing the arrangement on the center of the table.

"They're pretty," John remarked as he cooked corn kernels in a pot on the stove, making sure not to burn them. He turned and waved to Hal. "Hi Mr. Auden."

"Hi John." He sniffed the air and sighed. "Mmm, I've always loved the smell of popcorn."

John laughed. "Me too. I didn't want a big dinner so this will hit the spot. You and Mom have fun tonight."

"We will, and I'll have her home by nine."

John laughed again. "Too bad you couldn't stay out longer."

"I know. I really hope they catch this monster," Hal said, shaking his head. He looked at Wanda. "Ready to go?"

Wanda grabbed her purse that was on the coffee table. "Yes." She turned to John. "Make sure you lock everything up tight."

"I will Mom." He blew a kiss at her. "Have a good time. Love you."

"Love you too honey." She allowed Hal to take her arm and the two were out the door. John could hear Wanda locking it. 

In a few minutes his popcorn was done. He let it cool, then put it in a bowl, got a soda out of the fridge, and went back into his bedroom, settling back down with his records and comics.

****

All was quiet in Sherrinford as night overtook the town. John and Sherlock were fast asleep in their beds. Wanda was in bed, but reading and listening to a beautiful music radio station. She and Hal had a great time out and planned another date for the drive-in next weekend. Gloria Wilkes was sleeping peacefully and would be discharged from the home tomorrow. The Wilkes household was silent.

And a killer was plotting another murder...

 

 

 


	27. Here's That Rainy Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's a stormy day in Sherrinford, and the killer strikes again...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short chapter, but with a cliffhanger at the end!

John awoke to the sound of heavy rain pelting against his bedroom window. A loud crash of thunder soon followed. Any other Saturday, John would moan and groan about the bad weather taking over his weekend, but today he was perfectly fine with it. He had to work a late afternoon shift at The Big H for Mike, so he was going to stay home until it was time to go to work. 

John stretched and ran his fingers through his blond hair, smoothing it down. He got out of bed and made his way into the living room. His mom Wanda was already in the kitchen, fixing scrambled eggs. The radio was turned on, a weather report being announced. It was going to be a rainy, stormy day according to the DJ. 

"Hmm, you may not get many customers today," Wanda told her son.

"That's okay. Mrs. H. has been itching for us to clean down the kitchen, so today is probably going to be a good time to do it." 

John opened the fridge and pulled out a bottle of orange juice. "You have any plans for today Mom?"

"Housecleaning this morning, and then Ellen Chambers and I are heading down to Loki's to do laundry. After that, we're going to grab a bite to eat and then home for the evening."

"I'll help you with some of the house stuff. I'm staying here until it's time to go to work." John got a glass out of the cupboard, filling it up with juice. He took a sip and sat down at the kitchen table.

Wanda pressed a kiss to John's head. "Thanks honey." 

Soon the two were enjoying breakfast and making their usual morning chit-chat.

******

It was 2:45 when John pulled into The Big H parking lot. There was a break in the rain, but the skies were dark, the winds were whipping through the air, and a huge wall of clouds swirled menacingly in the gray vastness. It wouldn't be long before another storm would come through, drenching Sherrinford once again.

John saw Mary standing beside a car taking an order. It was the only customer in the lot. He got out, waved to his friend, and walked to the side door that led to the small kitchen, where Angelo was working.

"Hey Angelo," John greeted the cook.

"Hi John. It's been an extremely slow day. I've managed to scrub down most of the kitchen. The deliveryman dropped off hamburger buns and rolls which need to be put away in the pantry."

"I can do that. Just let me know if Mary needs any help out front."

"Sure thing, although I doubt she will. We've both been here since noon and we've only had three customers."

John nodded and headed for the pantry. Boxes of buns and rolls were stacked up high. John turned on the radio that sat on a shelf on a side wall, already tuned to KMOF. He grabbed a ladder, carefully climbed up, and began to unpack the boxes.

*****

John was back in the pantry for two hours when Mary came skating in. "Hey John. Having fun?"

John had finished placing all the bread on the shelves, and was now sweeping the floor. "It's a way to kill two hours. The music definitely makes the time go by faster."

Mary sighed and sat down on a folding chair propped up against the wall next to the radio. "It's been dead all afternoon. Only waited on six customers since my shift began. I've been helping Angelo clean the kitchen. Mrs. H. just showed up to do some bookkeeping."

A rumble of thunder boomed in the sky. "I'm sure Mrs. H. is shouting a steady stream of four letter words right now," Mary joked.

John chuckled. "She'll do that, storms or not."

The door opened, and the lady herself appeared. "Hello you two. It's been a shitty night for customers. I'm going to let you go home."

"You sure Mrs. H?" John asked.

She nodded. "Thanks to Angelo and Mary, the kitchen is spotless---which will be great since the health inspector is coming on Monday, and you've done a great job putting the delivery away. The only thing to do is close up, and Angelo and I can handle that. We'll be done before seven."

"If you say so Mrs. H. I'll see you Monday after school," Mary said with a smile, beginning to unlace her skates.

"And I'll see you Tuesday after school," John added.

"Goodnight kids. Make sure you go straight home," Mrs. Hudson gently reminded them.

"We will. Goodnight," Mary answered.

She left, and Mary stood up, now barefoot. "I'll need to call my mom and ask her to get me. Dad's off today and is using my car."

"I'll take you home Mary. That way your mom won't have to leave and get caught in the storm," John offered.

"Thanks John. You're a peach."

The two left the pantry, with John turning off the radio, said goodbye to Mrs. Hudson and Angelo, and were soon on the street to Mary's house.

*****

Another violent storm was thrashing the town, and John was safe and dry on the living room couch, snuggled under a blanket and listening to the radio program "Suspense." His mom was sitting in her armchair, sipping a cup of hot tea, also snuggled under a blanket and listening along with her son. 

"The weather is perfect tonight to listen to spooky stories," Wanda remarked.

"Yeah. And at least these are fake," John said, a sad smile on his face.

All Wanda could do was nod gravely. She hoped the killer loose in Sherrinford would be caught soon. 

The phone rang, startling Wanda and John. "Goodness, that scared me! I'll get it," Wanda said, shaking off her fright. John buried himself even deeper under the blanket. 

Wanda was in the kitchen and picked up the receiver. "Hello."

"Wanda! It's Hal."

"Oh hi Hal. You sound worried. Is everything okay?"

"Is John with you?"

"Yes." Wanda frowned. "Hal, what's wrong?" John sharply turned his head at hearing his mother's voice change, and he stood up and walked towards her.

Dread began to creep down over Wanda's body like a thick, eerie fog rolling in over the ocean. "Hal, did something happen tonight at The Big H?" She and John exchanged worried glances, and John's stomach began to tighten.

"I heard it over my police scanner. The killer struck again, about an hour ago."

"Oh my God," Wanda murmured in shock.

"Wanda, you're going to have to tell John and there's no easy way to say it..."

"Say what Hal? Please, just tell me!"

"It was Angelo and Mrs. Hudson."

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'll try to get the next chapter up this week!


	28. In the Blue of Evening

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sherlock comforts a shaken John; another tragedy befalls the town.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally got this up! The school where I work does a four day ten hour workweek during the summer and by the time Thursday night rolls around I'm beat and I just want to chill during my long weekends, or I'm out running errands on Fridays.
> 
> So, it's another short chapter. Some of you have asked for more Sherlock/John moments so this is for you.

John was back on the couch, wrapped tightly in his blanket, sound asleep. Wanda had given her son one of her sleeping pills. She didn't want to at first, but he needed to be calm. Hearing the news that Angelo and Mrs. Hudson had been attacked by the killer sent him crashing to the floor, sobbing heavily. Wanda herself almost went down, but she managed to keep herself under control so she could be strong for John. 

_Previously..._

"Hal, call me back, John just heard and he's devastated."

"Wanda, everything is going to be okay. They're alive and were rushed to Gatiss General."

Wanda nearly dropped the phone in shock. "What? They survived?"

John heard and immediately stopped crying. "Mom?" he sniffled. "They're okay?"

Wanda nodded, and John began to cry again, but this time tears of joy and relief. "Thank God!"

"Hal, tell me everything you know," Wanda insisted as John stood up and composed himself, intent on hearing as much as he could.

"I heard over the scanner the call came into the police station around seven-thirty. A customer pulled into The Big H and when nobody came out to wait on him, he went inside the restaurant to see what was going on and found Angelo and Mrs. Hudson. Both were on the ground, bloody, but awake. Angelo was able to tell the customer they were attacked and the guy called the police. They arrived immediately along with an ambulance. Both of them had numerous stab wounds, but the killer didn't hit any of their major organs. Both apparently put up a hell of a fight, and Mrs. Hudson beat the guy several times with her shotgun."

Wanda couldn't help but chuckle at that last statement. "Good for her. She's a feisty lady."

"If it had been just one of them, I doubt they'd be alive," Hal sadly commented.

"I know. It's a miracle," Wanda replied.

 John had gotten a little antsy after the phone call, so he reluctantly agreed to take the sleeping pill. Wanda promised him they would drive to the hospital to see Angelo and Mrs. Hudson. She took one herself, and before long she was sound asleep in her bed, oblivious to the storms that continued to drop unrelenting rain all around them.

*****

John awoke with a start, a little disoriented. He fumbled around, trying to reach for his bedside lamp but soon realized he was in the living room. He sat there and got his bearings, then stood up and softly padded to the front door and turned on the light switch mounted on the wall. Brightness enveloped the room, and he squinted and rubbed his eyes to adjust to the light. 

He looked at the clock on the kitchen wall. Eleven-thirty p.m. His stomach rumbled with hunger, as he'd only eaten popcorn several hours earlier. He went into the kitchen and opened up the fridge but didn't see anything he could make a quick snack out of. He opened up the cabinets where the dry snacks were and found a box of saltines. He took a pack and retrieved the peanut butter from the fridge, a butter knife, and sat down at the kitchen table.

He quietly ate, not wanting to wake his mom. Once he was done and the remnants of his snack put away, he walked to the front door, softly opened it, and stepped out onto the porch.

The rain had let up to a drizzle, and the streetlights cast an eerie glow over the rain-slicked road. A crackle of blue-purple lightning lit up the black sky. 

From the side of the porch, John smelled a strong odor of nicotine and he stiffened. Someone was out here smoking. What if it was the killer, intent on finishing off everyone who worked at The Big H? _No way, get it together Watson. The murderer wouldn't be here at my house. He'd be lying low, knowing Angelo and Mrs. H. survived. He wouldn't dare try again tonight_ , he thought to himself.

John stood completely still, like a petrified tree in the forest. He slowed down his breathing and clenched his fists.

Then a familiar baritone silkily called out from the same area where John smelled the cigarette smoke. "John?"

John let out a deep breath of relief and went boneless, relaxing his hands. "Sherlock? What in the hell are you doing out here? You know we've got a curfew! And did you hear what happened tonight to Mrs. H and Angelo?"

He could hear Sherlock move closer to him and soon John saw his tall, slim outline standing next to him, dressed in blue jeans and a gray T-shirt. His hair was loose and unkempt, like he'd just hopped out of bed. John's heart thudded and a warm feeling began to pool in his stomach. He cursed silently at his body betraying him so quickly.

"That's why I'm here. I heard the news on the radio and I only thought of you. I knew you had to work tonight. If you had still been there..." Sherlock's voice trailed off. He couldn't bear to think of John being struck down so brutally by a faceless maniac.

Before John knew it, he was had six feet of greaser wrapped tightly around him, warm lips showering kisses up and down his neck. John failed to suppress a shiver.

While Sherlock was lavishing affection on him, John realized how lucky he was tonight. If Mrs. H hadn't let him and Mary go early, they may have been victims as well, injured so badly they would need to be in the hospital...or worse, dead. 

No, John angrily told himself. He would have fought like hell to save not only himself but Mary, Mrs. H., and Angelo. He started to shiver again, but not because of Sherlock's feverish embrace and kisses. 

He didn't know when he started to cry, but the tears were falling like the rain that fell earlier in the night. Sherlock pulled away slightly to look at John, and shook his head.

"No John, please don't cry. Everything is going to be okay." He held him even tighter, shielding him from the dark, the evil, the blackness that had taken over their town. "Mrs. H. and Angelo are alive. They're brave, they fought back, and maybe because of that the killer will be caught and thrown in jail where he belongs."

"I hope so," John sniffled. He's got to be stopped." 

John recovered, his tears drying up, and he looked up and smiled at Sherlock. "Thank you. You've made me feel a lot better."

Sherlock replied by leaning down and softly pressing his lips to John's. There was no need for possessiveness and roughness tonight. He was here to comfort John and make him feel safe and loved, which he was.

John melted into Sherlock's lean body even more, returning his gentle kiss. "You'd better go. I don't want you getting caught being out past curfew."

Reluctantly, Sherlock broke away. John was right. He'd made a very risky move sneaking out of the house, and if his parents called the police, there'd be hell to pay. Again.

Suddenly the front door opened, startling the two boys. Wanda Watson stood in the doorway wearing a mint green robe, a smirk on her face. "Hello Sherlock."

Sherlock went pale. "Hello Mrs. Watson." He couldn't think of saying anything else, he was too embarrassed.

"Your parents just called. They're very worried." She put her hands on her hips and frowned hard at him. "What on earth possessed you to sneak out of your house, breaking curfew, and trying to see John, besides total stupidity?"

Sherlock's cheeks turned bright pink. "Well, I, uh..."

"He heard what happened to Mrs. H. and Angelo and came over to see if I was okay," John spoke up. "But he's going home now."

"No he isn't."

"What?" John and Sherlock cried in unison.

Wanda's face softened and she chuckled. "I told Sherlock's parents he could stay here tonight on the sofa. He's not going to be out in the dark while the killer is out there. He's probably furious that Angelo and Mrs. H. survived and is probably looking for another victim. No, he'd be much safer here."

Sherlock was flabbergasted at Wanda's kindness. "You'd do that for me?"

Wanda nodded. "Yes. You're redeeming yourself and I'm grateful for that. I'm not so cold-hearted that I want you as prey for some psychopath."

John rushed to hug his mom. "Thanks, you're the best."

"I know." She gave her son a squeeze. "Now both of you get in. I think we're due for another storm."

As the boys followed Wanda inside, a loud crack of thunder angrily rumbled in the clouds, and heavy rain began to fall in a deluge.

*****

The rain had stopped, but thunder and lightning still furiously tore through the heavens, promising more wet weather to come. Sherlock was sound asleep on the couch, wrapped up in John's blanket. The blond's scent on the soft material, combined with nature's stormy sounds, lulled him into a comfortable slumber. Wanda and John were sleeping peacefully in their beds. A few minutes later, the fire siren blared off in the distance, but it didn't wake them up.  

***** 

Officer Dave Morstan stood outside in the rain, covered in a yellow poncho, raindrops soaking his hat. He watched the inferno in front of him and shook his head sadly, viewing the firefighters battling the blaze. The rain would be a small help to speed up the efforts to contain the fire.

Dave saw the fire chief, Jody Whittaker, walking towards him. His face was smudged with soot from the smoke.

"Hi Jody. Christ, what a night. First the attack at The Big H, and now this. When is this madness going to end?"

"I don't know Dave. Soon I hope." He took off his helmet and sighed, wiping his sweaty and dirty face, shaking out his blond hair. 

The two continued to watch what used to be Sherrinford Community Church be destroyed by raging flames. "It's like staring into the pits of hell," Jody murmured.

"This has to be arson. Somebody torched that building," Dave said, growing angry. 

"We won't know anything until the fire is put out and our guys start investigating, but my experience tells me it's arson too. What kind of nut would want to do something so heinous?" Jody replied.

The two men would soon get their answer. Officer James Sholto appeared on the scene and headed for Dave and Jody. "Sholto," Dave greeted him soberly. "I thought you were manning the station."

"I was, until I got a call. I have Chibnall covering for me."

"Something to do with the fire?" Dave asked, starting to get anxious.

Officer Sholto nodded. "Billy Wiggins called me from his shift at the radio station. The killer called into his show and claimed to have set the fire. Apparently he's pissed off that Mr. Capaldi and Mrs. Hudson survived, and that he torched the church to punish the town hypocrites, his words.  He also said next time there won't be any survivors."

Dave and Jody exchanged grave expressions. Things just escalated to a whole new level. The killer was spiraling out of control. And if he wasn't caught soon, another person would lose their life.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> With the casting of Jodie Whittaker as the new Doctor, I wanted to use her name. But since women weren't fire chiefs back in the 60's, I had to make the character a man, and used the common male spelling of the name.


	29. It Ain't Right

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The church fire investigation begins; The Big H family pays a visit to Mrs. Hudson and Angelo at the hospital; Eurus and Jim are in their own little world, unaware a killer is watching...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Back with an update!
> 
> P.S. I wouldn't be a decent horror fan if I didn't have another horny teenage couple be watched by a psychotic killer (despite the horny teenage couple being crazy themselves).

_The Sherrinford Strand Late Morning Edition_

_September 12, 1961_

**SHERRINFORD SLAYER LEAVES SURVIVORS; BECOMES FIREBUG?**

**Kitty Reilly**

_The Sherrinford Slayer struck again Saturday night, but this time the killer was no match for his intended victims, who fought back and survived._

_Martha Hudson, 44, and Angelo Capaldi, also 44, were closing up The Big H Restaurant when the killer ambushed them around 7:00 last night. This time however, the maniac was unable to add more victims to his growing list._

_According to police chief Dave Morstan, both Mrs. Hudson and Mr. Capaldi were able to thwart off the brutal attack, although both suffered minor stab wounds during the assault. Mrs. Hudson, who owns the restaurant, and Mr. Capaldi, employed there as a cook, were both taken to the hospital and at the time this story went to press, they are in stable condition. The victims reported the killer was dressed in all black, wearing a fright mask, and carried a large butcher knife._

_The killer however, may have added arson along with murder and attempted murder to his career in crime. Approximately a few minutes after 11:30 in the evening, a call was placed to the fire department reporting Sherrinford Community Church in flames. The fire destroyed almost the entire building. The killer called into Billy Wiggins' radio show on KMOF, claiming responsibility for the blaze._

_Fire chief Jody Whittaker stated an investigation has been initiated into the cause of the fire, and said at this point he cannot take the killer's claims of being the one that set the fire as truth until the investigation has completed._

_The Sherrinford Community Center has offered to host worship service. One will be held tonight at 5:30, and then every following Sunday morning at 9:00, followed by a potluck lunch for all attendants._

*****

The mood inside Molly Hooper's mom's station wagon was a little tense as Molly, John, Mary, Mike, along with Ella Parsons, were on their way to Gatiss General to see Mrs. Hudson and Angelo. Ella had agreed to drive everyone, and Molly's parents let them use their car so everyone could go together.

Despite not much conversation going on, everyone was relieved their boss and co-worker were alive, and would recover from their injuries. Then there was the added bad news of Sherrinford Community Church being possibly torched by the killer. The church had been there since the 1916 and to see it destroyed in the blink of an eye was devastating.

A soft rain began to fall. In minutes it turned into a downpour, as if adding its own commentary to all the horrible events that unfolded over the weekend. John looked at the drops hitting the windshield and wondered when the black cloud hanging over his town would finally go away.

*****

Fire chief Jody Whittaker was still on the scene of the burned out church on Hiddleston Street, combing through the ruins in the rain, which had now weakened to a light drizzle. Despite the Sherrinford Slayer's claims of setting the fire, there still needed to be an investigation. For all he knew, the psychopath could be lying as a distraction. 

Nothing was left of the church, which was reduced to ash and cinder. He fought back a tear. He and his family would come every Sunday before heading to his in-law's in Baskerville for Sunday supper, unless he had to be on a fire call. It was good that the community center opened its doors to everyone so they could still worship, but it wouldn't be the same. The church had been a beautiful structure, and now it was gone. It would be rebuilt, the pastor vowed, but a new building wouldn't replace the memories. His wedding to his wife Pearl was held here. Their children had been baptized here. 

A small group of citizens were standing across the street watching the investigation. He could see the looks of sadness and disbelief on their faces. One was taking pictures, obviously a newspaper photographer. He turned back to the task at hand. 

A few moments later, a young policeman ran up to him. "Chief Whittaker!" he exclaimed. "I found this in an alley covered up by trash!" He held up a silver gasoline can and a spent matchbook with gloved hands.

Jody's eyes widened in shock and surprise in seeing the evidence. "Good job!" he praised.

The officer smiled. "The matchbook has writing on it. It looks like it's from a restaurant or a bar."

He held it up, and Jody studied it. It was silver, with artwork featuring a blue full moon surrounded by yellow stars. "The Blue Moon Bar," Jody read aloud. "Never heard of it. There's no place like that in Sherrinford."

He looked at the officer again. "Bag up this evidence. If we can find any pour patterns, we've got ourselves arson. I'll call Dave Morstan." 

*****

"It was so sweet of you kids to come up and visit me," Mrs. Hudson beamed to John, Molly, Mike, Mary, and Ella. She was laying in her hospital bed, both hands bandaged. Her hospital gown covered up the other stab wounds she received.

"You don't know how torn up I was when I heard you and Angelo were attacked. I thought you two had---well..." John's voice trailed off and he cleared his throat. He could feel his eyes welling up with tears.

"Well, we didn't. We fought like hell. There was no way that maniac was going to get the better of me or Angelo. I couldn't lose him. He's too good of a cook!"

The group laughed. Trust Mrs. Hudson to make a serious situation lighter with humor.

"I heard you beat up the nut with your shotgun," Mike said, grinning.

"I got in a few good licks. When he saw me point it at him, he just stopped. I only wish it was loaded, but I can't, keep bullets in it, not with you kids around. Too dangerous."

"Do you think you hurt him bad enough for him to seek medical treatment?" Ella asked. 

"Ah, I see where you're coming from dear, but he probably didn't. Everyone knows what I did. A doctor would just call police, and that's the end of his killing spree." Mrs. Hudson shook her head. "It's not good for the restaurant to be closed all this time. Gonna cut into some serious profits. But Angelo and I need to be in tip-top shape to run the joint."

"We could run it for you Mrs. H," Mary suggested.

"Oh no, I couldn't ask you kids to do that. It's a lot of work," Mrs. Hudson gently argued.

"If The Big H isn't open, that means no paycheck. And I really count on that money. Mom has to withdraw some savings for rent on our new apartment," John said. "We can keep the place open."

Mrs. Hudson patted his hand with her wrapped one. "Thank you dear, but no, I'm not going to put all that responsibility on you. You all have school tomorrow, and you need to focus on your studies. I have enough money saved up to pay you for the week. Don't worry. The doctors say I'll be out in a couple of days if I continue to heal well. Same for Angelo."

The door opened and there was Angelo himself, in a wheelchair, smiling. A nurse was behind him, pushing him inside. "Hey kids," Angelo said. 

"Angelo!" Molly exclaimed and rushed to him. She gently hugged him, mindful of his injuries. 

"I was in the cafeteria having lunch with my family and I heard you all were visiting with Martha, so the nurse was kind enough to bring me up here. Good thing your roommate moved out, or this place would be really crowded."

"Oh Angelo, I'm so happy to see you doing so well," Martha said cheerfully. "I was so worried when they took you away in the other ambulance. They wouldn't tell me anything, only that you were conscious and the wounds were superficial."

"We're really lucky Martha. If it had been just one of us there, we'd be at the morgue instead of here." His expression turned serious. "My daughter told me the church burned down last night, and they think the killer did it after attacking us."

 "I still can't believe it. This guy is a major sicko. Why would he do something like that?" Mary asked with a shudder.

"Because he's crazy. That's all there is to it," John replied bitterly. 

"Mrs. H, I hate to scare you, but what if the killer goes after you and Angelo again? He's probably furious you fought him off and survived," Ella soberly pointed out.

"Yeah, and he did it before curfew went into effect. Which is even scarier, because we all thought he was only attacking later at night. What if he goes after someone in broad daylight?" Mike spoke.

No one answered the question. They couldn't even imagine what things would be like in Sherrinford if it did happen. 

*****

Sherlock was lying on his bed, perusing his chemistry textbook. It wasn't that well-written, but he figured he'd be a good boy and try to get a few chapters read before school started tomorrow. Since John was out visiting his boss in Gatiss, he wouldn't see him until tomorrow, but John promised to call him later tonight and tell him how things went.

He had the radio on, and there was a news broadcast about the attempted murders of Mrs. Hudson and Angelo, and the church fire. The DJ was talking about the find of the gas can and the empty matchbook and the fire investigation was now a hunt to find traces of arson.

Sherlock closed his chemistry book and rolled over on the bed so he was facing the ceiling. His parents had not allowed him to leave the house today as punishment for breaking curfew last night, which was fine with him. It had been raining all day, and he wanted to be alone with his thoughts of John. He couldn't wait to have the beautiful blond in his arms again. 

Sherlock closed his eyes, and it wasn't long before he was asleep, images of John filling his mind.

*****

 _Well be-bop-a-lula she's my baby,_  
_Be-bop-a-lula I don't mean maybe._  
_Be-bop-a-lula she's my baby_  
_Be-bop-a-lula I don't mean maybe_  
_Be-bop-a-lula she's my baby love,_  
_My baby love, my baby love..._

As Gene Vincent crooned out his rockabilly tune on the radio, the white Pontiac parked in the woods near the old Belgrave mansion was rocking, with loud moans and grunts coming from inside the car.

Eurus was lying on the backseat, eyes closed tight and mouth open wide, enthusiastically letting her boyfriend Jim Moriarty know how good he was making her feel. The two had decided to spend the afternoon together, and a heated makeout session led to a bout of wild, passionate sex. 

Jim was on top and rapidly thrusting into her. "Damn Eurus, you drive me crazy," he breathed, hands tangled in her thick dark hair, mouth latched onto her neck.

"Good," Eurus moaned, wrapping her legs around Jim's waist and her hands settling right above his backside, her pink painted nails digging into his pink flesh, driving him into her deeper.

A car door slammed in the distance, causing Jim to jerk and lift his head up, stopping the slap and tickle. "Shit! That sounded like a car door. Someone's here!"

"Jimmy sweetheart, ignore it. They're probably going into the mansion. It's a popular place to shag in," Eurus said. She placed a kiss on Jim's nose then bucked her hips up. "Come on baby, start moving."

Jim waited for a few seconds. He didn't hear anything, so he pressed a kiss to Eurus' lips and started back up.

The two were in back in the throes of teenage passion when another sound caught them off guard, this time a dog barking. 

"That's it, we're outta here." Jim pulled himself out of Eurus and began to put his clothes on.

"Come on Jimmy, it's probably just someone walking their dog," Eurus said, put off that Jim stopped putting out.

"I'm not taking any chances sweetie. We can go finish our little tryst at my house. My parents won't be back until this evening." He gave her another kiss to placate her.

She smirked. "Okay. We haven't done it in your bed yet." She began to gather her clothes up.

As the two were getting dressed, a figure dressed all in black stood behind some trees and watched with a cruel smirk on his face. A scalpel was tucked neatly inside the back pocket of his pants. He'd seen the car pull up and park and he knew exactly who they were and why they were here. But it wasn't their time yet. He was on another mission, one that would send the citizens of Sherrinford even further into despair. 

 


	30. Digital Cover Art for Sleepwalk

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Taking a break from writing to post a couple of logos I made to represent the fic. Done in Fotor, a free online photo editor. I had the black & white pics of Benedict and Martin on my computer for another story that I abandoned. Not a bad way to waste a Saturday afternoon!


	31. Stand By Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After the Sherrinford Slayer destroys another beloved part of history, plans are made for Culverton Smith High's Homecoming of 1961, and the theme chosen sends a clear message to the killer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The kids go back to school among all the craziness.

Monday morning brought sunshine and cooler weather after days of rain and gloom. John slowly pulled his ride into the parking lot of Culverton Smith High, finding a parking place behind the school next to the football field. He smoothed down his blond hair, picked up his bookbag which he slung over his shoulder, closed and locked his car, and headed for the front of the building.

John exchanged hellos with some of his football teammates as he made his way towards homeroom. The halls were crowded with fellow students either walking to their classes, hanging out and talking, or at lockers gathering books. 

John noticed a poster hanging on one of the walls advertising the Homecoming game against the Gatiss Gators and the big dance, for the first weekend in October. A Homecoming Committee meeting was being held after school Tuesday and anyone who wanted to join could. John smiled brightly, he was glad to see some slice of normalcy in a summer that had been nothing but pure insanity. 

John entered his homeroom. Molly, Mary, Victor, and Mike were already seated. "Hi guys," John called to them as he slid into his chair.

"Hey John. Wonder if we'll make a full week of class?" Mike said.

"I hope so. I'd never thought I would say how much I was glad to be back at school. I'll take a boring school year over a summer of craziness."

Molly nodded. "Me too. But I actually like school. These continued interruptions means we'll have to make up the days missed at the end of the year.

"Totally not cool," Victor lamented.

"Is anyone coming to the Homecoming meeting tomorrow after school? I am, and I think Sarah and Janine and Jennifer and Becky are coming too," Mary said.

"I am," Molly replied cheerfully. She turned to the boys. How about you gentlemen?"

John shook his head. "Homecoming means tons of football practice, so I'll have to decline."

"Same for me," Victor added.

"I'll come to the meeting since I don't play sports. I stick to safer, nerdier activities, like Yearbook and Future Doctors of America," Mike jovially responded. He looked pointedly at John. "Speaking of Future Doctors, you promised you'd join this year."

"I know, I know. Once football gets in gear I'll do it." Mike had needled John about joining the club since they both wanted to pursue medical school after high school graduation.

The gang exchanged pleasant small talk until Ms. Brealey entered, signaling the start of another school day.

*****

John got through the morning without incident. His afternoon was relatively easy, a free period after lunch, then chemistry. As he sat eating lunch with his friends, he realized he hadn't seen Sherlock all day. He spoke to him last night and Sherlock told him he was planning to come to school. Maybe he decided to skip. Sherlock didn't seem to thrilled with it, and from what he heard his parents were pretty lenient when it came to him and his siblings.

Mycroft and Eurus were in school though, eating their meals at separate tables. Eurus was with her boyfriend Jim Moriarty and some of his friends, and Mycroft was sitting with Henry Knight and a few boys outed as "squares," which John could care less about. He was not into cliques. If he liked someone, he did and that was that.

Greg was also not in school. Molly explained he'd come down with a nasty stomach bug he caught from his dad, and was in bed resting. He was expected to return to class Wednesday.

Lunch passed quickly and pleasantly, and John retired to the library for his free period. His plans were to do his history homework and compile a to-do list preparing for he and his mother's move to their new apartment. 

His plans however, were quickly thwarted when a pair of arms suddenly wrapped around his compact frame and proceeded to push him into a broom closet across from the library. The arms released him, and before John could defend himself, he saw Sherlock standing pressed close to him, plump lips consuming his in a passionate kiss that threatened to render John breathless.

Once Sherlock finally released him, panting and flushed, John crossed his arms and glared at him after regaining his composure. "Are you trying to get yourself put in detention?" he hissed.

Sherlock just smirked. "I was already there this morning. And what, no praise for that awesome kiss?"

John shook his head, his anger dissipating. He chuckled softly. "Detention huh? What'd you do, deduce one of the teachers and they didn't like what you had to say?"

"Well, it's not my fault if Mr. Firth cheats at his weekly poker games."

John's eyes widened in shock. "Mr. Firth?  Ol' stuffed shirt, wishes he was in Regency England? Him? No way."

Sherlock just grinned and nodded.

"Wow, I'd never peg him as a gambler or a cheat."

"Neither did he. So, he ordered me to detention and banned me from his class. It's fine anyway, he's a bore and so is history."

John chuckled again. "I like history, but it's a good thing my teacher is Mrs. Stubbs. She makes it interesting. Maybe I can get you into hers, if you're good. Now if you'll excuse me, I was on my way to the library before you grabbed me like some sex-starved pervert."

"But John, I am a sex-starved pervert." Sherlock shot John an intense, lustful gaze. "Skip the library and let's spend free period outside. I didn't get to spend any time with you yesterday." He scooped up John into his arms and held him tight. John could feel warm nicotine breath ghosting lightly on his neck, and he started to feel tingly.

"It is a nice day, but I want to get my history homework done. Why don't you come over to my house after school? Mom doesn't get home until five-thirty. I don't think she minds now if you're there," John replied, trying to appease the taller boy.

Sherlock lifted his head and John couldn't help but laugh at seeing the wide grin on his face. "I take that as a yes?"

"Most definitely." He bent down and kissed John softly and gently this time, and John responded with a chaste kiss back. He broke away and reached up to ruffle Sherlock's curls. "It's a date. I'll see you as soon as school lets out. Meet me at my car, it's parked by the football field."

"I don't have to meet you, my bike is right next to yours," Sherlock replied with a wink.

"Smart-aleck," John playfully teased. "Okay, time to get out of this broom closet. See you later genius." He opened the door and left Sherlock still inside, a dreamy look on his handsome face, feeling like he was floating on a fluffy white cloud among the brightest, bluest sky ever imagined.

*****

The final bell rang, and it was a mad dash for many of the students to get home. Not for John and Sherlock, who found themselves back in the same broom closet for a quick makeout session before leaving the campus to make the short drive to John's house. 

Sherlock followed John, the afternoon breeze whipping around him as rode his bike, feeling free and happy for the first time in a long time. He and John had found steady ground and John got him into Mrs. Stubbs' history class. Mr. Firth decided not to pursue further action against Sherlock (because Sherlock was right about his after school activities). 

He knew one day he'd have to tell John about the real reason his family emigrated to California, and he hoped John would understand. But he wasn't ready to cross that bridge yet. 

Moments later the two were in John's driveway and parked their rides, going into the house. Soon the two were on John's bed, munching on popcorn and listening to the radio. John's head was on Sherlock's shoulder, and there was an easy silence between them. 

*****

Wanda Watson returned home from a busy day at work to find John in the driveway along with Sherlock. The two were waxing and polishing John's car. Rock music played from the car radio. She couldn't help but smile at the sweet sight. Sherlock had come quite a way in less than a month, proving his friendship to John. Well, love actually. Wanda knew the boy was head over heels for her son. Sometimes she wondered if she was a good mother, allowing her son to be around someone who made such strong advances, after what happened in LA with the first boy, and then Sebastian Wilkes last year, but unlike those two boys, John really liked Sherlock. He trusted him. And John did not trust many people right away. There had to be something about Sherlock that John saw. Maybe John knew Sherlock was capable of being a decent guy. As long as they took things slow and careful, she was okay. Too many teenagers today jumped right into the first steady relationship they had. 

John saw his mom and smiled, running to meet her. "Hi Mom! How was your day?" He leaned in for a hug.

"Fine sweetheart. Busy, but the good kind." She hugged him back tightly. "How was school?"

"Great. I was actually glad to be back. It makes everything feel normal again you know?"

Wanda smiled sadly and hugged John again. "I know honey." 

She released John and walked to greet Sherlock. "Hi Sherlock. Keeping Johnny company?"

"Yes Mrs. Watson. John invited me to come after school. We've already done our homework and John asked me to help wash and wax his car."

"That's wonderful. Are you boys hungry?"

"I'm starving, but I don't know about Sherlock," John replied.

Sherlock chuckled. "I'm actually a bit hungry."

"Well, what are you in the mood for? I could make something, or I could get takeout."

"You look tired Mom. Sherlock and I can go and pick something up," John offered. 

 "That sounds lovely. I really should cook a meal, but I'm beat." She reached into her purse and handed John a twenty dollar bill, which he tried to refuse. "No Mom, I have some money, I can buy dinner. Please?"

Wanda laughed. "Okay honey, if you insist. Thank you."

"Come on Sher, let's pick up some pizza and salad from Leonard's," John said, heading to his car.

"Can you also pick up some coffee? We're out," Wanda asked.

"Sure Mom. We'll go to Vons, and then Leonard's. It'll be a nice little ride." John smiled at his Mom, and he and Sherlock got into his car, and were soon out of the driveway and on the road. Wanda waved at them, thinking any other time, seeing her son and his friend go to the store was a routine, mundane activity she took for granted. With a mad killer on the loose, routine and mundane was never so wanted as it was now.

*****

Sherlock rolled into his house a little after seven-thirty, full and happy. As he walked towards the grand staircase, his mother Veronica appeared from the side where the living room was. "Hi Sherlock. Did you have a good time with John?"

He nodded. "Yes Mummy. It was great."

She patted his shoulder and placed a soft kiss on his cheek. "I'm glad you've mended things with John. You've been more relaxed and cheerful this past week and it's good to see."

"John's a great guy Mummy. I'm really lucky. I don't deserve him."

Veronica gave her son a rare hug. "Oh yes you do son. After all you've been through, you deserve to have someone love and want to be with you. You're not worthless." She stepped back and peered into lookalike eyes. "Do you hear me?"

Sherlock was a bit taken aback. This type of affection was rare from his mother. She was never cold, but frequent hugs, kisses, and loving words had never been a constant staple in the Holmes household. But Sherlock knew she loved him, loved Mycroft, and even managed to hold onto a sliver of love for Eurus.

"Yes Mummy. Thank you." He kissed her cheek. "I'm going to go upstairs and read for a bit."

"Okay. Your siblings are already in their rooms. It's been a quiet evening, and I'm extremely grateful for it."

Sherlock smiled and nodded at his mother and headed upstairs. Once he was inside his bedroom, he walked out onto his small balcony that overlooked the pool. The sun was starting to set, the sky brilliant and magnificent shades of orange, blue, and purple. A few stars were out, twinkling like tiny diamonds. Sherlock pulled his pack of cigarettes out of his jeans pocket along with his lighter, and stood there watching the peaceful landscape as he puffed in the twilight. 

It wouldn't be peaceful for long.

*****

The fire whistle pierced the calm night air like a dart hitting a board. It was a few minutes after midnight. Hal Auden was awake thanks to the stomach bug that had taken hold of some of Sherrinford's citizens. The nausea was overwhelming, and he'd already been sick in the bathroom twice. He was sitting in his living room in his apartment he had above the gun shop, listening to his police scanner. His fears that the fire wasn't accidental became real as he heard the conversation over the channel.

"Just pulled in now Chief...good Lord it's a huge blaze. This is devastating. I don't think we can save her. Other men are on the scene now doing what they can."

Hal continued to listen to the call, dread washing over the pit of his stomach, mixing with the nausea already settled in there. It had to be the killer. Two fires in the span of two days was not a coincidence.

But then he heard two words, and everything else around him seem to fade out completely.

Belgrave Mansion.

*****

All day Tuesday, the only thing the kids and teachers could talk about was the Belgrave Mansion, the stately vacant home that had become a popular hangout for Sherrinford's teenagers was nothing but a hollow burned-out shell. The structure still stood, but it was going to be torn down after an investigation was completed. Charles Magnussen vowed he would spend his own money to create a new place for the young people to go and get away from it all.

Several students cried. Many of them were planning an after-Homecoming party there. John remembered his own times of going there, and the last time, which was with Sherlock. He couldn't believe it. A beautiful piece of history and workmanship, destroyed in hours thanks to a maniac with a gas can. He wouldn't be satisfied until he burned down the town. Maybe that's what he was trying to do. Erase Sherrinford off the map.

*****

John decided to attend the Homecoming Committee meeting. It had to be held in the cafeteria because so many students showed up. Mrs. Stubbs and Mr. Turing, the teachers who were the committee supervisors, along with Principal Harold Saxon, were also there.

John took a seat next to Molly, who was sitting with Mary, Janine, Mike, Sarah, and Sarah's boyfriend Bill Murray.

"Glad you could make it," Molly happily whispered to him.

"Good afternoon," Principal Saxon announced. "First of all, I want to say, this is a great turnout for our first Homecoming meeting. As you're all aware, and what the entire school has been abuzz about, the beloved Belgrave Mansion was set on fire last night."

A chorus of boos and angry murmurs followed his comments.

"Yes, I know, it's horrible, horrible news. Combined with the torching of the church and these killings---well, our lovely little beach town has had a lot to deal with. But we are strong, and we're going to get through this. I have faith that this madman will be caught and we can recover from this nightmare. And we're going to show this madman that his heinous acts will not get the better of the students and staff at Culverton Smith High."

Cheers erupted from the tables. One teenage boy could be heard calling out "Go man!"

There was some laughter, and Principal Saxon chuckled. "Thank you. Now I'm going to turn things over to Mrs. Stubbs." 

Mrs. Stubbs, a short thin green-eyed woman in her early fifties with blonde hair pulled into a bun, stood up. "Thank you Principal. Today, we're going to select our Homecoming theme for this year's festivities. Here is the schedule of events, which will be distributed to all students by the end of the week:

Friday, October 6th, a pep rally will be held in the gym from one o'clock to two o'clock, with the cheerleaders performing a special act. We encourage everyone to wear maroon and white, the school colors that day. Our football team will be wearing their jerseys, so when you spot them, wish them good luck for the game that evening. 

The Homecoming game against the Gatiss Gators will begin at seven Friday evening. And I hate to say it, but due to unfortunate events, police will be on hand providing security all night. People attending the game will be searched at the entrance. We want this to be a fun and safe night for everyone, especially since we're also choosing our Homecoming King and Queen as well.

Saturday, October 7th, the Homecoming Parade will begin at 10:00 am on Main Street. The newly crowned King and Queen will lead the parade, followed by the Homecoming Court,  along with our football team, cheerleaders, and marching band. And at seven that evening, our Homecoming dance, which will be held in the gym. Billy Wiggins from KMOF will be broadcasting live as well as playing the music."

More cheers erupted at hearing Billy's name. The young DJ had quickly become very popular with Sherrinford's teenagers. 

Mrs. Stubbs laughed. "I'm glad you're getting excited for this. We really need it!"

There were more cheers, clapping, and a few hoots before she spoke again. "Thank you ladies and gentlemen. I'm turning it over to Mr. Turing now." She sat down, and Mr. Turing, the popular chemistry teacher stood up.

"Thanks Mrs. Stubbs. Now that we have the rundown of Homecoming events, it's time to choose a theme for our dance. Last year's theme, "In The Still of the Night," proved to be extremely popular. This year, I think we need something a little stronger, in lieu of what's been going on. We need to show that we're strong, and we won't let this maniac running around ruin our special weekend."

The students cheered again. Someone cried out "Yeah man!"

"Anyone have any ideas?" Mr. Turing asked when the hoopla died down.

"How about "He'll Have To Go?" Bill Murray shouted with a snicker. Sarah guffawed and playfully punched her boyfriend in the shoulder.

Laughter and giggles took over the cafeteria. "Good one Mr. Murray, but I think we need something with a more universal theme," Mr. Turning replied.

The cafeteria descended into mini conversations as teenagers tried to think of a good song or idea to use. While John was talking with his friends, the idea hit him. He'd heard his mom sing along to it on the radio this spring. It was a brand new song, and it was good to slow dance or cha-cha to.

John stood up. "Mr. Turing? I have a suggestion."

"Go ahead John," the teacher told him.

"How about Stand By Me?"

There was a chorus of agreement. "Oh John, that's lovely!" Molly praised.

"It's such a beautiful song. I even caught my parents slow dancing to it in the kitchen one night," Janine said.

"Well committee, what do you think? Should Stand By Me be our Homecoming Theme?" Mr. Turing asked.

The decision was unanimous and Mr. Turing smiled. "Well, Stand By Me it is. I'm sure our talented group can come up with some decorations and designs. We'll meet next Friday after school right here. Thanks for coming everyone, and be safe going home."

Several students came to John and gave him positive feedback on his choice. John couldn't help but blush at the praise.

"John, I think you deserve something special for your suggestion," Mike declared. How about we all hit Speedy's for ice cream? I'll treat John."

Everyone readily agreed. As they left the cafeteria and walked to the parking lot, there seemed to be an atmosphere of strength and renewal in the air. The killer may have had them down, but they certainly weren't out.

Now all they needed was for him to be caught.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The kids have taken a stand against the killer, and he will definitely notice it! But will he be caught before Homecoming? I do plan on revealing his identity soon!


	32. Tossin' and Turnin'

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Taking a break from Johnlock to focus on some other characters. Two unlikely people come to Molly's rescue after a run-in with some of the late Carl Powers' friends.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for some mild bullying. Teenage boys can be idiots.

_The Sherrinford Strand Morning Edition_

_Thursday, September 16th, 1961_

  **CULVERTON SMITH HIGH TO KILLER: YOU WILL NOT RUIN HOMECOMING!**

**By Kitty Reilly**

The students and staff at Culverton Smith High are preparing for their annual homecoming festivities with one major difference from all other years: there was no psychotic killer on the loose. But the unknown maniac is not putting a damper on their plans, he is the inspiration if you will, for their planned activities. This year's theme is "Stand By Me," from the popular new song by Ben E. King. Principal Harold Saxon had this to say:

"This year's theme is a special one. It's about looking out for each other, loving each other, and supporting each other. It's also about being safe and secure. School should be a safe and happy place for our children and teachers to come to, and our homecoming is going to reflect that. The Homecoming Committee has come up with some really wonderful ideas for the dance, and I'm looking forward to seeing the fruits of their labor. I hope this sends a strong message to the disturbed murderer roaming our streets, that your horrible actions will not have us cowering in fear. We are strong, standing by each other, and standing by this town."

Here is the outline of the school's homecoming events:

Thursday, October 5th - The Rollerama on Norbury Ave is holding a free pre-Homecoming skating party from 6 pm to 8pm. Hot dogs, fries, and soda will be provided at no charge. Officer Dave Morstan along with other officers of the Sherrinford Police Department, will be on hand to talk about safety and security for the football game and dance.

Friday, October 6th - Homecoming football game against the Gatiss High Gators, 7:00 pm at the football field. Police will be at the entrance searching all attendees. The Homecoming King and Queen will be crowned during halftime.

Saturday, October 7th - Homecoming Parade, 10:00 am on Main Street. The dance will start at 7:00 p.m. in the high school gym. Police will be there the entire evening providing security.

*****

"John, wake up! It's time for school---"

Wanda Watson's morning greeting to her son was abruptly stopped when she heard retching sounds coming from the bathroom down the hall. "Oh no," she lamented. She hurried to the bathroom door. "Johnny honey, is everything okay?"

Her response was the sound of the toilet flushing.

John opened the door and Wanda was horrified to see his normally golden skin a sickly pale color. A pained look was on his handsome face. "Oh Johnny, you look terrible."

"I feel terrible Mom," he moaned. "I've been throwing up for the last thirty minutes, and my head is pounding like someone is driving nails into my skull."

"You're definitely not going to school today. I'll call the office and let them know. You go back to bed." She rubbed his back affectionately.

"Thanks Mom." He trudged back to his bedroom. 

She watched him leave. "Looks like I'm not going into work. I'm not leaving my sick baby alone." She went into the kitchen and began to make phone calls to school and to her job.

*****

Culverton Smith High had a lot of absences that day thanks to the intestinal virus. Greg Lestrade had returned, only to leave right after third period when he got sick again. 

Which is why Molly Hooper was alone during her free period. She was outside, sitting under a tree not far from the basketball court, reading her geometry textbook when she noticed the space above her turned dark like clouds blocking the sun. She looked up, and saw Art Doyle, Marty Freeman, and Jeff Hope standing above her, looking none too pleased.

Molly wasn't stupid. She knew why they were there. They were best buddies of the late Carl Powers, and they also had a reputation of being "tough guys." Well, they weren't going to push her around. But she was going to stay silent first.

"Well, well well, look who we have here. Molly "Mouse" Hooper. I'll never know why Carl liked you," Marty sneered. The other boys snickered. Molly just rolled her eyes, but said nothing.

"I don't think she liked what you had to say Marty," Art gibed.

"Too bad," he spat.

"Look _gentlemen_ ," Molly said, saying the word boys condescendingly, "don't you have better things to do with your time than harass a girl? But then again, harassing girls is the only way you'll get attention from them, isn't that right? She stared frostily at the boys, and stood up. Hell if she'd cower under any of them.

"I'd keep quiet if I were you," Marty continued.

"Or what? You're going to teach me a lesson? You going to hit me? That's very mature boys. I see Carl Junior taught you well, and look where it got him." 

Molly knew it was a low blow but she didn't care. She put her hands on her hips and continued to glare at them.

Marty's mouth dropped open, and Art was shooting daggers at Molly. 

Jeff raised his hands as if to defend himself. "Okay, okay, maybe we should just cut out. This wasn't a good idea you two. She ain't the wilting flower you said she was."

Molly chuckled bitterly. "No I'm not. I took on Carl's dad when he backed me into an alley. I'll do the same with you goons. Now leave me alone. Some of us are here to actually get an education."

She smoothed down her skirt and tried to sit back down, but Marty grabbed her wrist, squeezing it painfully. "Carl was devastated the night he died. You insulted him and rejected him."

Molly winced but held her ground. "I wasn't the one who chopped him up with the ax. So let go of my wrist and leave me alone, or I will go to the principal. You've gotten away with bullying others before, but this time you're done." She tried to release his painful grip, but to no avail.

"I'm far from done Mouse," Marty shot back darkly.

Art moved in even closer. Jeff stayed back. "Drop it you two and let's beat it!" he hissed.

Molly continued to struggle against Marty's unyielding hold. Just when she thought she was going to have to fight her way out, she saw Henry Knight and Mycroft Holmes rushing toward her. "What the hell is going on?" Henry hollered. "Let go of her Freeman!"

Surprised, Marty released Molly and whirled around to face the newcomers. "This isn't your business fag. So you and posh boy here better scram."

Henry was unperturbed. He took a step closer towards the blond gasbag. "Go to hell creep. I've had enough of you and your idiot friends trying to prove you're all big and bad. A real man wouldn't manhandle a girl and threaten her. You know she had nothing to do with Carl's death. You're just pissed and looking for someone to take it out on because you can't take it out on his killer. Drop it."

"I may be a posh boy, as you put it, but I've seen things that will make your skin crawl. I could tell you...but then I'd have to kill you," Mycroft chimed in, sending Marty a look that meant he wasn't bluffing. "England isn't the regal place you think it is, trust me." He was now standing right up against the shorter boy, continuing to stare at him. 

Marty's eyes widened and he stepped back. "Okay, okay, no need for all of this. I'll leave her alone I promise. We all will. Won't we guys?"

Art and Jeff nodded furiously.

"I think it's high time you left. Oh, and Principal Saxon will hear about this. Trust me." Mycroft smiled at them unnervingly. He was told by many back home he had a smile that would frighten the devil.

"Let's cut the gas," Marty said, his eyes blinking rapidly. Seconds later he, Art, and Jeff were running away from the basketball court, no doubt heading for the safety of the school walls.

"Jesus Christ those three are total assholes," Henry barked.

"I agree," Mycroft mused. He turned to Molly, who was holding her wrist and rubbing it. "Are you okay? Let me see your wrist."

She held out her arm for Mycroft to see. A purple bruise was forming on her wrist. "You'd better get that inspected by the nurse. I'll take you if you like."

Molly finally heaved a sigh of relief and smiled. "I'd like that very much. Thank you Mycroft." She leaned in and gave him a peck on the cheek. Mycroft couldn't help but blush, warmth spreading out all over his body. He finally got a kiss from her...and maybe one day it would be more than a chaste buss. He'd take what he could get for now.

"She turned to Henry and smiled appreciatively at him. Thank you too Henry. I know they've gone after you before...I just don't understand why they have to act like thugs," Molly said.

Henry just shook his head in disgust. "It makes them feel like men. But it just makes them look like jerks. Maybe now they'll quit knowing some of us will stand up to them. Bullies can dish it out but they can't take it."

He turned to Mycroft. "You take Molly to the nurse, and I'll see Principal Saxon. I'll catch you at lunch."

"Thanks Henry." Mycroft and Molly watched the younger boy head towards the school.

"I like Henry. He's been through a lot," Molly remarked.

Mycroft nodded. "I know. He's been a good friend to me these past couple of weeks."

"I'm glad." Molly rubbed her wrist again. "It's really hurting."

Mycroft frowned, anger bubbling inside of him. "They're not going to get away with this I promise. Now, let's go to the nurse."

As the two left the basketball court, Molly wondered what would have happened if Mycroft and Henry hadn't interceded. She was sure she could have handled Marty Freeman, but not Art Doyle and Jeff Hope along with him, even though Jeff had chosen not to participate. He still could have stopped it. He wasn't any better.

She'd have to tell Greg. He'd be angry, and he wouldn't like it that Mycroft intervened, but hopefully he would get over it. 

Molly was so engrossed in her thoughts she didn't realize she and Mycroft were holding hands as they walked.

*****

Wanda was sitting in the kitchen, adding up figures on a spreadsheet. She had called work and told them she wouldn't be in because of John, but asked if she could do some work from home. So one of her co-workers drove some paperwork to her. "Mr. Reichenbach wanted someone to make sure the totals matched up with what he came up with, and since you're the math genius at the office, who better than you?" Bonnie Evans, one of the secretaries, playfully teased, as she put the stack on her table.

It turned out Mrs. Reichenbach was home sick with the same virus that sacked John out, so she didn't feel bad about calling out. She just hoped she wouldn't get it. Hal Auden told her it was a highly contagious strain with a tendency to reappear in some people.

A knock at the door interrupted her train of thought, and she got up to answer it. It was Hal. "Hi Wanda."

"Hi Hal. Come on in." She moved to let her friend in. She shut the door and gave him a hug. "How are you feeling?"

"Much better. I ran into Bonnie Evans at Leonard's this afternoon. She said you called out of work because John was sick with that horrible bug that's been going around."

"Yes. Poor baby was so miserable. There was no way I was sending him to school. He's been in bed most of the day, up and down with vomiting. If he isn't feeling better by tonight, he's staying home again tomorrow. The only thing he ate was dry toast and gingerale, and he couldn't even keep that down."

"I couldn't keep anything down either. It really knocked me for a loop," Hal sympathetically replied.

"Would you like something to drink? I've got soda and homemade iced tea," Wanda offered.

"Some tea would be great, thanks."

Hal took a seat a the table while Wanda got the pitcher out of the fridge and took two glasses out of the cupboard. He looked at the paper spread across the other side of the table and chuckled. "You're amazing Wanda, doing your work at home."

"Well, Mr. Reichenbach needed a second set of eyes to check his mathematical calculations and with John resting in bed, I was able to do some work from home." 

She poured tea into the two glasses and set one down in front of Hal. "There you go."

He took a gulp and sat the glass down, sighing happily. "Delicious."

Wanda joined him and took a long sip. "Iced tea is so refreshing." Then she looked at Hal. "You have someone covering for you at the shop?"

He nodded. "Steve's there. We're still busy selling guns. I hate to thank that nut out there, but I haven't seen this much business in years."

"When crime goes up so do your sales. It's a fact of life, unfortunately."

Hal took another drink of tea before speaking. "I wonder when he'll strike again. Now it's not just attacking and killing people, he's burning down buildings that meant a lot to this town. What in hell is he trying to accomplish by all of this madness?"

Wanda shot Hal a sad look. "He wants this town to suffer. Apparently he thinks in his crazy mind Sherrinford's ruined his life somehow, so he's ruining everyone else's."

John shuffled into the kitchen with a blanket wrapped around him. He was still pale, but not as white as he was this morning. "Hey Mom. Hey Hal."

"Honey, you should be in bed," Wanda gently chided, going over to her son and wrapping an arm around him.

"I got tired of laying there. Can I rest on the couch and listen to the radio?" John gazed at his mom with hopeful eyes.

"Of course sweetheart. How's your stomach?" she asked.

"Still a little nauseous, but getting better. I think I'm going to try to eat something. Do we have any crackers?"

"I have saltines, and I'll get you a glass of gingerale. You get settled on the couch," Wanda said, ruffling his hair.

John made his way to the couch and buried himself beneath his blanket while Wanda got his snack.

Hal drained the rest of his tea. "Well, I'd better get back to the shop. Thanks for the refreshment Wanda." He turned to John. "And you young man, get better soon, so you can be ready to win some football games."

John laughed. "I will. Thanks Hal."

"Goodbye Hal. Call me later," Wanda told him as she set a plate of crackers and a glass of gingerale on the coffee table in front of John.

"I will. Goodbye." Hal smiled at the two of them and left the house.

"Now let me turn on the radio. I'll be right in the kitchen if you need me." The radio sat on top of a small table that sat in the corner of the living room. She turned it on and tuned it to KMOF, then went back to her work. John slowly munched on a few crackers and sipped some of his soda before laying back on the couch, closing his eyes and humming along to the rock music. It didn't take long before he fell asleep. Wanda looked over at him and smiled, glad to see him resting peacefully.

*****

Sebastian Wilkes stomped through his living room, furious. He'd just heard from Tim Carlton about Marty, Freeman, Art Doyle, and Jeff Hope's "discussion" with Molly, Mycroft, and his boyfriend Henry earlier today at school. He wanted to ring the three boys' necks. He'd warned them to leave Henry alone. Now they were going to face his wrath.

Henry suddenly appeared in the archway that separated the living room from the kitchen. "Sebby?" he called out to him softly.

Sebastian rushed to his boyfriend and scooped him up in his arms, cradling him, peppering his face and neck with kisses. "I heard what happened at school today. You okay baby?"

Henry pulled back. "I'm fine. Who told you?" 

"Tim told me. Goddamn those sons of bitches. I'm gonna kill them." 

Henry cupped Sebastian's cheeks with his hands and shook his head. "No Sebby. Principal Saxon handled it. Marty, Art, and Jeff are suspended for two weeks. If they bully someone else, they're banned from all the homecoming stuff. You don't have to worry about me. I feel bad for Molly though. Marty really hurt her wrist and the nurse gave her an icepack and a wrap."

"I can't believe those goons blame Molly for Carl's death," Sebastian said.

"Yeah, well Marty, Art, and Jeff aren't known for their logic and intelligence," Henry soberly replied. "They feel that if Molly hadn't rejected him that day, he wouldn't have gone down to Regent's Park to get drunk after curfew, leaving him vulnerable for the killer."

Sebastian snorted. "Ridiculous. Like Molly Hooper would have ever gone for Carl. She's way too straight-laced."

"I thought I was like that, and then I met you," Henry noted.

"Oh, you're far from straight-laced baby." Sebastian leaned down and captured Henry's soft mouth with his, wrapping his arms tight around the younger boy, a hand reaching down to squeeze his bum.

Henry broke off the kiss and laughed. "Leave it to you to turn a serious conversation into something sexual."

"You like it." Sebastian kissed him again.

"Yeah I do. I don't know why though." Henry laughed again, and pulled the taller boy down so he could press a kiss to his nose. "I see it's just the two of us."

"Mmm-hmm. Dad's working late, and Mom won't be home until tonight. You thinking what I'm thinking?" Sebastian nuzzled Henry's neck.

Henry just grinned coyly and took Sebastian's hand, leading him upstairs. Outside, a gentle rain began to fall.

*****

It was still raining when the car pulled into the empty parking lot of Culverton Smith High, KMOF playing from the radio. Billy Wiggins was talking about homecoming.

The driver twisted his lips into a cruel sneer. He'd read today's paper and saw that the school was sending him a message stating that he wasn't going to ruin their homecoming. 

He got the message all right, but he would be the one to deliver the sermon.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dun-dun-dun...


	33. Smoke Gets In Your Eyes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The school day at Culverton Smith High is disrupted by the killer and later, he tries to claim another victim---who discovers who he is! And of course, teenagers being teenagers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another update! The goal is to reign this thing in at under 50 chapters---I'm hoping to end it at 45, but that is determined by how long I want these plotbunnies to go. There's still the whole Eurus mess to resolve, and I still don't know if Mollstrade or Mollcroft will be endgame.

The virus still had a hold on John late Thursday night. The vomiting had stopped but diarrhea had taken its place. John was extremely embarrassed when he had an accident in his bedsheets, and his mom had to strip the bed and wash the sheets in a metal tub because they had no washer and dryer at home. The rain had stopped, so Wanda hung the wet sheets on the front porch railing to dry. 

John was now snuggled under a new set of clean sheets. He inhaled the fresh linen smell, and burrowed himself inside the soft cotton, the radio on the bedside table softly playing music. 

"I think you should stay home again tomorrow and rest. By the time Monday rolls around, you'll be right as rain," Wanda had said.

John didn't argue. He was fine with not going to school and possibly making a mess, not to mention a laughingstock, of himself.

After a goodnight kiss on the cheek, Wanda had turned out the bedroom light. John closed his eyes, and he was soon fast asleep as the soft melody of "Smoke Gets In Your Eyes" by The Platters drifted out from the radio to the confines of his cozy room.

*****

Friday morning, it was overcast, but dry. Wanda frowned after listening to the weather forecast on the radio calling for heavy rain later tonight, but at least she'd be home and not out in the mess. And John still wasn't feeling that great, but he could be left alone at home while she was at work. She called the school to let them know John still had the virus and he would be back Monday. She learned the head secretary was now out sick with it, as well as the vice-principal.

Wanda made plans to scrub her house down with bleach as soon as she got home from work tonight.

*****

The first half of the school day at Culverton was uneventful, except for a small celebration that broke out upon hearing Marty Freeman, Art Doyle, and Jeff Hope were suspended from school for two weeks for bullying and assaulting Molly Hooper. The ones cheering had also been harassed by the trio, and they were thrilled not to see their faces for fourteen days. 

Henry and Mycroft were hailed as heroes, but neither boy wanted extra attention. And Tim Carlton decided to no longer associate with the troublemakers, but that was mostly because his girlfriend Sophie Hunter threatened she would no longer put out if he continued his friendship with the boys. Sophie (and her affections) was more important than those three. He also didn't want to risk being dateless for Homecoming.

*****

Greg had returned to school feeling like his old self again and caught up on his work, thanks to Victor bringing it over to his house. Molly had offered, but Greg didn't want his girlfriend to be exposed to the virus. It had already went through Victor's house, and he ended up not getting it at all. 

The handsome football player was eager to see Molly again. They'd made plans to double date with Bill and Sarah Sawyer Saturday evening at the roller rink. Greg wanted to spend his free period with Molly, but she had been roped into an impromptu Homecoming meeting during her time, so she was with some of the committee members. So he was by himself, sitting on one of the bottom bleachers in the gym, studying for a trig exam for Monday.

While he tried to memorize the functions (sine, cosine, tangent), a familiar voice called out to him. "Hey stranger," a female purred.

Greg glanced up to see his ex, Irene, smirking down at him. He recognized her devious grin and knew she was up to no good.

"Hi Irene," he said flatly.

"I know we're not together anymore, but surely you can be a little more enthusiastic in greeting your old steady," Irene replied, a little chuffed. She sat down next to him on the bench and crossed her shapely legs, which were wrapped in tight black pedal pushers.

"Sorry if I'm not too social right now, but Mr. Graves sprung a trig exam on us and you know math is not my best subject."

"I have a feeling you won't be able to concentrate on math once I tell you what your little girlfriend's been up to while you were out sick."

Greg slammed his book shut and glared at Irene. "Stop stirring shit up Irene. You're one to talk, after you cheated on me _and_ with another girl at that. You've got no room to talk."

Irene looked down at her red espadrilles for a moment, as if taking in Greg's words. "Greg, I just think you should know..."

"No Irene. Stop trying to cause trouble between Molly and me. You and I are over."

Irene snorted. "I don't want you back Greg. Christ, men have such egos." She leaned back and ran an expertly manicured hand through her hair. "I just want you to know that Molly is not the good little girl you think she is."

Now it was Greg's turn to smirk. "I see. And would this have anything to do with Mycroft Holmes taking her to the nurse yesterday after he helped stopped Marty Freeman and his goons from assaulting her?"

Irene looked at him in surprise. "You already knew?"

"Yeah. Molly called me and told me what happened yesterday. Do you really think she would have kept it from me? She said she did give Mycroft a small friendly kiss on the cheek and he did take her hand to inspect her wrist. Henry Knight was also there, so the two of them weren't alone." 

Greg gave her a sharp look. "Things are cool between Molly and Mycroft. He leaves her alone and when they talk, it's quick and cordial. So don't try and make something that wasn't there to begin with. You're just pissed that I wasn't devastated by our breakup and I'm dating a so-called nerd. Concentrate on your own life and stop trying to screw with mine."

He opened his textbook back up and turned his back to hers, ending the conversation. When Irene realized her manipulations weren't going to work on him, she stood up sauntered away, heading back to the school, sultry mouth curling up in a smirk again, this time seeking out Molly Hooper.

*****

Molly was coming out of the multi-purpose room located in the basement where the art classes were held. The committee meeting had ended and it was her lunch period. The cafeteria was on the same floor at the end of the long hallway. She was only a few steps away from entering the lunchroom when Irene suddenly appeared at her right side. "Molly," she drawled, a grin on her face that Molly could only describe as evil.

"Whatever you need to say can wait Irene," Molly staunchly replied.

"I talked to Greg this morning," Irene purred.

Molly rolled her eyes. "I'm sure you did. It was all for nothing. Greg already knows what happened to me yesterday, we talked on the phone last night. So stop trying to be a troublemaker. You've got Kate, there's no need to try and ruin mine and Greg's happiness."

"Greg's a good guy. I don't want to see him hurt," Irene firmly stated, her blue eyes flashing.

Molly snorted. "That's rich coming from you. You're the one who ran around on him, so spare me the lecture. Now if you'll excuse me, I'm meeting my boyfriend and my friends for lunch. I'm not going to waste anymore time arguing with you. And stop meddling in our lives!" She stalked off and into the cafeteria, leaving an amused Irene standing there watching her. "She's definitely not the shy, mousy girl she used to be. I guess I lost this round."

*****

Lunch ended all too soon, and soon students were scurrying off to their final classes for the day. Molly, Greg, Mary, Little Seb, Mike, Janine, Sarah, and Bill walked out together, each shooting Irene, who was sitting at one of the tables by the doors, a dirty look. Her girlfriend, Kate Moffat, raised her eyebrows at her. "I see you've managed to piss off more of the student body."

Irene shrugged. "Just another day in the life of Irene Renee Adler."

"Irene, you know I dig you babe, but in 'just another one of those days', you're going to steam the wrong person and you'll regret it. Just because you're head cheerleader doesn't mean you also need to be head bitch," Kate advised her.

Irene shrugged again. "I have a reputation to maintain, you know that." She stood up and adjusted her red scarf that was wrapped around her neck. "Come on honey, let's get out of here. Unfortunately it's time for our government class."

The two girls exited the nearly empty cafeteria, just wanting to get through the rest of the day. But they, along with everyone else at Culverton, were in for a rude awakening.

*****

The call came into the school office at 1:10 pm. The caller had asked for Principal Saxon and told him a bomb was inside a black briefcase sitting by the door on the right side of the school, which was the designated bus lane. The caller said he was parked somewhere close to the school, but not on school grounds, and could see the building. He also said he had more plans for the school, specifically Homecoming and he would make it one to remember...if anyone was still alive **to** remember it, and promptly hung up. Principal Saxon remained calm and called the police, and announced over the loudspeaker school was being dismissed early due to an emergency, and for no one to panic, and exit through the closest door. Students were not to go to their lockers, to leave with what they had on them. Staff would exit with students, and once the emergency was dealt with, custodians would lock all doors and make rounds. Any student that rode a bus, if they could walk home or get a ride with a friend, to do that, or walk to the nearest safe location, which was the Big H parking lot, and he and the secretaries would direct the buses to pick children up there.

There was a buzz of conversation as everyone left, trying to wonder what had happened to interrupt yet another school day. Sherlock had met up with Mycroft and Eurus in the parking lot. Mycroft and Eurus would be heading home in the Aston-Martin. Sherlock had other plans, and he hopped on his bike and sped away.

*****

John, who had changed from his pajamas into a pair of jean shorts and a maroon T-shirt that read "Culverton High Hounds Football," went to the front door after hearing someone knock. "Who is it?" he asked wearily.

"It's me John," came Sherlock's baritone from the other side.

John smiled and opened the door. Sherlock looked gorgeous in a pair of tight black jeans rolled at the cuff, and a white short-sleeved button down shirt. His dark hair was lightly slicked back, with a few curls hanging loose on top of his forehead. 

"Hey," John happily greeted him. "Come in."

Sherlock entered and immediately wrapped his long arms around John, breathing in the shorter boy's clean and comforting scent of Zest soap and Prell shampoo. "You smell wonderful," he murmured.

John laughed. "Yeah, taking a shower does that for you." He pulled away and when he saw Sherlock's troubled blue-gray eyes, he frowned. "Wait a minute. You should still be in school. Did something happen?"

Sherlock nodded. "The principal had us dismiss early. He didn't say anything specific, just that it was an emergency."

John's deep blue eyes narrowed into tiny slits. "I bet it was the killer. He probably called in a threat to the office."

Sherlock's eyes widened and he broke away from John, pacing frantically around the room. "Of course John! A bomb threat! It all makes sense!" He furiously ran his fingers through his hair, shaking loose his curls. "He probably left something on school grounds and that's why we had to be evacuated."

"But why target the school?" John asked. Then a look of realization crossed his handsome face. "Oh God...it's Homecoming. He saw the article in the paper about our Homecoming plans, and that we're doing it to let him know we're not going to be scared off...oh shit!"

John groaned and sank down on the couch. "It's all my fault!"

Sherlock gave him a sharp glare. "What do you mean?"

"I was the one that chose this year's theme. Stand By Me. To represent us being there for each other and that he wasn't going to ruin our Homecoming. I've really pissed him off. If someone gets hurt or killed, it's all because of me!" He fought back a cry and put his hands over his face.

"John, no." Sherlock knelt in front of him and squeezed his shoulders affectionately. "Don't blame yourself for this psychopath's actions. He's the one choosing to kill and set fires and make threats."

John gazed up at Sherlock with wet eyes. "I know but still..."

"Shh," Sherlock whispered. "It's not your fault." He moved to sit beside John, who leaned into his chest, resting his head just beneath Sherlock's shoulder. "God, this is such a nightmare," John said.

Sherlock pressed a kiss to John's golden hair and wrapped his arms back around him. "I know." _It's even worse than Eurus drowning my brother, if I can believe that,_ he thought to himself. Someday, he'd tell John the twisted backstory of his family, but it wasn't time yet. Right now, he just wanted to hold and comfort the boy that meant everything to him.

"I'm glad you're here," John told him in a sleepy voice. "It's been a lousy couple of days."

"I heard you came down with that virus that's been going around. You feeling any better?"

John nodded. "Much better. Tonight I'm going to try eating food that isn't toast, or saltines, or chicken-free broth." 

Sherlock chuckled. "Good thing you weren't at school today. They were serving tuna boats with cheese."

"Ugh. My stomach can't handle that even when it's not upset. Mom's bringing home barbecue chicken and salad on her way home from work."

"Sounds good."

"You're welcome to stay for dinner Sherlock. You know she doesn't mind anymore." John peered into his eyes, which now were a shade of aqua, like a clear ocean on a calm sunny day.

"I would love to, but Mummy made reservations for the family at this posh restaurant called The Golden Door. I have no idea where it's at, but it sounds dreadful." Sherlock wrinkled his nose like a grumpy cat, which made John laugh.

"You're cute when you're irritated."

Sherlock's full lips formed a huge pout. "I'm glad my discontent is amusing to you."

"You'll get over it. Anyway, The Golden Door is in Gatiss, and Dad took Mom there for one of their anniversary dinners. It's very nice and very expensive. Mom said the food was really good. I'm sure there's something there even for you."

Sherlock pouted again, which caused John to laugh again and place a kiss to his nose. "You'll live," John teased.

Sherlock's lips curled up into a small smile, and he leaned down and captured John's mouth, nipping at his bottom lip. John gave off a small moan, and Sherlock took him into his arms, holding him tight. Having John in his arms was like heaven.

"I have a few hours until I have to go home and get ready for this boring meal, and since I haven't seen you for two whole days, I want to cuddle with you," Sherlock said after breaking off their kiss, lightly brushing John's cheekbone with his knuckles.

John, who shivered at the soft touch, grinned. "That can be arranged." He took Sherlock's hand and led him towards his bedroom.

*****

Sherlock left a sleeping John with a gentle kiss on his lips and a caress of his blond locks. "I'll see you tomorrow angel. Pleasant dreams."

John mumbled something and then turned over, and Sherlock thought it was the most adorable sight in the world. How lucky he was to have John, the most perfect person in the universe, all to himself. He so badly wanted to bail out on dinner with his family and the spend the rest of the day cuddling with John, but he knew Mummy and Father would be cross if he didn't come. It was their attempt act being a "normal" family even though they were anything but. 

Once he was outside in front of John's house, he strapped on his helmet, revved up his bike, and sped for home. When he got there, he learned dinner had been canceled. Eurus had come down with the dreaded virus. Sherlock couldn't help but smile to himself, as she rightly deserved a few days of vomiting and discomfort for being a horrible sister.

"I'm going back to John's then," he announced.

His parents were fine with it. Mycroft had escaped to his friend's Henry Knight's house for an overnight stay, which left his parents' full attention on caring for Eurus. Sherlock bounded up the stairs to his room, grabbed some comfy clothes which he threw into a duffel bag, and left the house, back on the road to John's. 

*****

Wanda had tutted at Sherlock telling her Eurus was sick, and she allowed him to stay the night. So she, Sherlock, and John were sitting at the kitchen table, chowing down on barbecue chicken, salad, and iced tea. John tore into his meal with gusto, happy to be finally eating "real food." Sherlock ate slowly but finished his dinner, and Wanda followed suit.

After dinner, Sherlock and John were snuggled up on the couch together under an old bedspread, listening to the radio. Wanda had retired to her room to do some reading and talk with Hal on the phone, relaying how their days went, and making final plans for their date tomorrow evening, after she cleaned the kitchen and the bathroom. The predicted heavy rain had begun, creating a cozy and calm atmosphere in the Watson home.

At another home though, it would be anything but cozy and calm.

*****

The clock struck nine-thirty at Principal Harold Saxon's house, located not far from Regent's Park. He was sitting in his living room in his armchair listening to classical music on the radio, and he was alone. His wife Lucy was away in San Diego, visiting her younger sister Penny, who was on bedrest with a difficult pregnancy, due to give birth any day. Lucy had promised to phone him as soon as their niece or nephew was born.

Harold loved rainy nights, they were relaxing and it helped him take his mind off school matters. Never before had things been so stressful. Trying to keep the peace and keep students focused on their education while a murderer was loose, killing their friends and threatening their livelihood was taxing. He like everyone else in Sherrinford was praying the police would catch the maniac soon.

A few seconds later, he heard the sound of glass breaking in the kitchen, which startled him and he sat up, rigid. Then he chuckled. He and Lucy had a cat, an orange tabby named Cassidy, after the fictional cowboy character Hopalong Cassidy. Cassidy was a sweet boy but he was prone to hopping up on the kitchen counters and table and knocking things over. 

"Cassidy, you silly ball of fur, what have you destroyed now?" Harold wondered out loud as he got up and started for the kitchen.

He soon learned Cassidy was not the culprit, but he wished he would have been, as a figure dressed all in black, wearing a terrifying fright mask, ambushed him from behind the door that led to their side porch, crazily waving a butcher knife, and lunged towards him. Harold cried out and backed away, then grabbed a canister of flour and hurled it at his attacker, catching him right in the chest. The knife-wielding psycho yelled out in pain and the canister fell to the floor, shattering to pieces, the white powder exploding upwards and all over his black outfit.

Harold took the diversion as a means to escape, making a hasty beeline for the front door, grabbing a letter opener which sat on his desk as a weapon of defense. He turned around, back against the door, and saw the killer running towards him, knife raised. If Harold wasn't so scared, he would have laughed at the sight of the flour-covered figure in the Halloween mask. 

Harold lashed out with the letter opener, slashing the killer's left sleeve. "Get out!" he roared at him.

The killer was undeterred. Harold dropped the letter opener and reached out with his left arm, grabbing the killer's left arm, trying to wrench the knife out of his hand. Harold could hear his ragged breathing, and soon his breathing was the same as he desperately fought to get the knife away.

He succeeded, and the knife fell to the carpet with a soft thud. Harold raised up his right knee and smashed it hard against the killer's privates. The other man yelled in pain, and Harold raised his right hand, made a fist, and punched the killer right in the face. While he was stunned from the blow, Harold, in a fit of combined anger and adrenaline, tore off the killer's mask.

And he looked into a very familiar face. A face he thought up until this moment, was a friendly one.

Harold stopped cold, in shock. "Oh my God. It can't be. You? But why? Why have you done these terrible things! Why?"

The killer just looked at him with a blank stare, as if he didn't even know who he or was or where he was. 

Icy shivers crawled up and down Harold's spine, and a wave of nausea began to pool in his stomach. He had to get away, and get to the police. He turned around and ran like hell, out into the relentless downpour, and then he realized he didn't have his car keys. So he kept on running, into the street, frantically trying to get to his neighbor's house. He'd call the police from there.

The darkness of the night and the deluge of thick, fat raindrops hampered his visibility, and he didn't see the car coming down the road as he scrambled to reach his neighbor.

It didn't take long for metal to meet flesh, the tires screeching, and Harold was down on the wet, slick ground with a strangled scream that got stuck in his throat.

The driver immediately got out and tended to Harold, who was unconscious. And while Harold lay in the rain-covered street, and a neighbor opened the door, running out after seeing the scene, the killer had picked up his mask, ran out the back door of Harold's house, and into the stormy night, unseen.

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know the ending is total plot convenience playhouse, and something only a soap opera writer would love (just wait until the next chapter), but I'm not ready to reveal the killer's identity just yet! So the frustration will continue...


	34. Young Blood

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Saturday night drama and mayhem in Sherrinford...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm on vacation next week! There may be another chapter depending on how my days go.
> 
> Warning for some horror movie style violence (and cliches) at the end of the chapter.

Lucy Saxon anxiously sat in the passenger seat of her brother Jeremy's Ford sedan as the two made the long drive from San Diego to Gatiss General, where her husband Harold was recovering from being hit by a car. She'd gotten the news late Friday evening, right after her sister Penny delivered a healthy baby boy named Frederick Saul, nicknamed Rick. With Penny and the baby doing fine, she decided to leave and be with her husband after Jeremy agreed to drive her. 

Jeremy reached over and patted his sister's knee. "He's going to be fine Sis. You know Hally's tough. He has to be to deal with all those teenagers."

Lucy smiled at her sibling's joke. "I'm just thankful there was no internal bleeding. He'll be extremely sore with his cracked ribs, but thank God that's all he has."

"He'll be gone on all the pain medicine they'll give him," Jeremy mused.

"Better gone on medicine than gone for real." Lucy set her mouth in a grim line. "I wonder what possessed him to run out of the house, into the street, during a rainstorm?"

"Intruder in the house?" Jeremy wondered. "Maybe he spooked a burglar?"

Suddenly Lucy's face went as white as a sheet, and her anxiety rose even higher like a runaway kite. "Or a psychotic killer."

Jeremy shook his head rapidly. "No Sis, don't even think that." Lucy had been keeping her brother up to date on the murders, and had refused his requests that she and Harold leave Sherrinford and stay with him and his wife in Carmel. Harold couldn't go because of his job, and Lucy wanted to stay with him so he wouldn't be alone.

"What other reason would he have to leave the house like that in bad weather? He was probably trying to get to our neighbor's for help, and the car didn't see him in the road because it was raining so hard." She went pale again, and her stomach lurched heavily. "Oh God, what if he saw the killer? What if the killer goes to the hospital to finish what he started because Harold can identify him---"

A severe wave of nausea crested up in her stomach, and she let out an ungodly cry. "Jeremy, pull over. I'm going to be sick."

Jeremy quickly stopped along the shoulder, and Lucy jumped out, heaving on the side of the road. Jeremy also got out and quickly rushed to his sister's side, gently rubbing her back.

Lucy coughed, wiped her mouth, and turned to look at her brother. Her face was red, and tears stained her cheeks. She let out a sob and melted into the safe embrace of her brother's arms.

"As soon as Harold is released, the two of you are coming to stay with Elaine and I. Harold will just have to take a leave of absence. The school should understand. It's for his safety, and yours, if he really was running away from the killer and he saw him."

Jeremy gave his sister another squeeze and helped her up from the ground. "Come on, let's get back on the road. The sooner you get to Harold, the better you'll feel."

"Thanks Jeremy. You've always been such a wonderful big brother."

"And you're a great little sister."

The two got back into the car and were soon speeding down the highway.

*****

"You'll let me know when he wakes up Doctor?"

Doctor Jones nodded. "I'll call you Officer Morstan."

"Thank you."

With a sigh, Dave left Gatiss General, frustrated that he may have the only living witness who saw the face of the Sherrinford Slayer, and he was knocked out on morphine. He replayed the images in his mind of when he arrived on the scene of Regent's Park Road. Harold was lying on the wet street, groaning in pain, and obviously frightened. The driver who accidentally hit him, a very remorseful father of six who was driving home from a late shift at a factory in Gatiss, said that he didn't see Harold until it was too late and he couldn't swerve in time to miss him. Luckily he was only driving 25 miles an hour due to the heavy rain, or the school principal would have likely died, instead of getting broken ribs and some scratches and bruises to his legs and arms.

While waiting for the paramedics, Harold had started to relay some of what had occurred prior to him leaving the house. He had said "intruder, big knife, all black, scary mask, hit him with flour, letter opener, defended myself, we fought, I ripped off mask, I know him, I was shocked..."

But before Harold could tell him who had attacked him, he blacked out, in true movie cliffhanger fashion. The doctors had put him under sedation, and he would be for a few more days. 

Officer Morstan had requested police protection outside his hospital door which the administrators agreed to. The killer's latest failure would be in the papers and on the radio, and he didn't want the maniac to try to get to Harold inside the hospital. Officer James Sholto and Officer Chris Chibnall had agreed to take turns guarding him.

It sickened him to know that the heartless murderer was one of their own, someone known to Harold, someone whose identity would shock him. But he had to get him off the streets. He knew he wouldn't stop until he was physically caught or died. Dave prayed Harold would wake up soon.

*****

"Hi Mrs. Holmes. Is Sherlock there?"

"Hello John. He is, but unfortunately he's come down with the same virus that sickened Eurus, and he also has a fever. He's in bed resting, but not by choice."

"Sorry to hear that. I hope he didn't catch it from me."

"I don't think so. It's been going around the school so he probably was exposed to the germs there. Anyway, I expect him to be out of commission for a few days. I'll let him know you called."

"Thanks Mrs. Holmes. Tell Sherlock I hope he gets better soon."

"I will John." There was a pause, and then Mrs. Holmes spoke again, but with a quivery voice, almost whispering. "Thank you."

John was taken aback a little by the change in tone. "What did I do?"

"Your relationship with Sherlock means everything to him. He's so much happier. It's been very rough for him. He's had to deal with a lot. He's never had anyone else to care about him except for me, his father, Mycroft, and Sheridan..."

 _Sheridan? Who's Sheridan?_ John was confused. 

Before he could ask, Mrs. Holmes let out a gasp. "Oh God, I shouldn't have mentioned him. Do you know...Has Sherlock told...no he wouldn't have told you, or you wouldn't still be seeing him, you'd be staying away..."

"Mrs. Holmes?" 

"John, I must go. I'll have Sherlock call you when his fever breaks."

There was a click. She was gone. John hung up the phone, very puzzled...and concerned. Why was Mrs. Holmes so flustered and upset that John wouldn't want to see Sherlock if he told him about this mysterious Sheridan? Was it a friend? Relative? Former boyfriend? Whoever it was, the name had Sherlock's mom in a tizzy.

John would have to ask the next time he spoke to Sherlock. In the meantime, he had to get ready. He was going skating with Molly, Greg, Sarah, Bill, Janine, Mike, Mary, Little Seb, and Victor. 

*****

Veronica Holmes stood by the phone, shaking. She didn't mean to mention Sheridan, it had slipped out. Now she was afraid John would no longer want to see Sherlock if he found out about her dead son, what happened to him, and why the family left England. It was already a miracle that John forgave Sherlock for his actions weeks ago and wanted to be with him. She couldn't risk her child's happiness and have him heartbroken again.

"Mummy, I'm hungry. May I have some toast?"

Veronica turned around and saw Eurus standing there, rubbing her eyes. Suddenly, she was filled with rage. She didn't see her youngest child of fifteen dressed in a pink cotton nightgown, pale and miserable from being sick. She saw a psychopath, a killer. She was no better than the maniac on the loose murdering innocent people.

Eurus gazed at her mother blankly upon seeing her mother's furious expression. She was used to it by now.  What she was not used to was her mother suddenly lunging towards her, smacking her hard across the face.  She winced at the sting and rubbed her face. She said nothing, waiting for her mother's harsh words.

"You murdering monster!" she hissed ferociously. "I should have left you back in England to rot!"

Eurus watched her begin to cry. A tiny flicker of sadness appeared on her face. "I didn't mean to Mummy," she whispered.

It was at this time that Sherlock appeared. His dark curls were plastered to his sweaty face, and he was only wearing pale blue pajama bottoms. "Mummy? Eurus?" he softly called.

Veronica looked up. "Oh Sherlock, you should be in bed."

"I need to call John."

Eurus tensed up and frowned. Her brother was going to tell him everything. She knew the guilt was eating away at him like acid.

Veronica shook her head. "You can't. If John finds out, then the two of you are no more. I can't let that happen!"

"I need to be honest with John Mummy. He has trust issues. He'll be hurt and angry that I didn't tell him about Sheridan." He looked sharply at Eurus, who for the first time in her short life, got scared. Her eyes widened.

"You know I never meant for it to happen Sherlock! I loved Sheridan!" she cried.

Sherlock snorted. "So now you're sorry and remorseful about pushing Sheridan into the pool?" 

"I was angry. He was trying to be the older brother, ordering me around..." Eurus slunk to the floor, hands furiously pulling at her hair. "I know I don't think like other girls. And he used that to mock me."

"He wasn't mocking you Eurus. You know Sheridan was the most playful and jokey out of all of us," Sherlock pointed out.

"You really meant to say he was _normal_." Eurus spat at the last word like it was poison.

"Yeah, I guess I did."

"I'll never be normal big brother. Even when I try to be. It comes out fake." Eurus sighed and stood up, looking at her mother. "I know you hate me. But I can't change what I've done."

"You only think about yourself Eurus. I know some of that's my fault and your father's fault. But I never had thoughts about intentionally hurting anyone. I can't take the fault for that."

Eurus simply nodded. "I'm not hungry anymore. I'm going to bed." She stoically made her way up the stairs and to the landing which led to her bedroom.

Sherlock looked like he was about to collapse and Veronica gently took him to the couch. "You'll rest here. I'll get a blanket and pillow from the linen closet."

"Mummy, you don't want me telling John about Sheridan do you."

Veronica smiled sadly. "Eventually it's going to come out. If John does have to know, it should come from you rather than one of the town gossips."

Sherlock nodded. "Thank you Mummy." He laid back, and within minutes he was out like a light.

*****

The Rollerama was crowded, as it generally was on a Saturday night. John was having a blast skating with his friends, and he wished Sherlock was with him. But he knew his friends would be put out if he was there. John hadn't told them he and Sherlock were an item, but he knew he'd have to tell them one day. He wanted them to know Sherlock had changed, and John did like him a lot.

A slow song came on over the loudspeaker - "Love Me Tender" by Elvis and John watched as couples joined hands and skated together on the rink. He felt a twinge of sadness that he didn't have anyone to skate with, and he sat at the table alone, singing along to the wistful melody and lyrics.

"Sometimes I wish I was straight, so I could do what they're doing," a voice said from behind him.

John shifted in his seat and saw Victor standing there. "One day Vic, times will change and you won't have to hide," John told his friend.

"I hope so." Victor sat down. "But I'm going to Baskerville to see Eddie tomorrow, gonna hang out at the beach. He wants to show me his new surfboard." A smile crossed his handsome face.

Before John could reply, there was shouting and loud murmurs coming from the rink. He jumped up, startled. "What's going on?"

"Let's find out," Victor said.

The two made their way to the edge of the rink, and they saw one of the employees, a muscular man in his thirties named Gary, holding two teens on either side of him by the back of their T-shirts. John recognized them as Art Doyle and Marty Freeman. He saw Greg shooting daggers at the two, while holding Molly tightly in his arms.

Mike skated over to John and Victor. " Those two clowns appeared and began to harass Molly, getting on her case for their suspension from school. Molly told them to get lost, and when they wouldn't let up, Greg hit both of them in the face. Janine went to get Gary."

"Good for Greg," John said. "They deserve a taste of their own medicine."

Everyone watched as Gary hauled the two bullies out of the roller rink. "You two are barred from this establishment. Don't ever show up on this property again, got it?" Gary growled.

"You can't do that!" Marty yelled.

"I'll sue!" Art barked.

Gary just laughed. "Do what you want, just don't do it here. From what I hear you two think you're a couple of big shots. Well, big shots don't harass girls." He literally tossed them out the door. "Now get lost goons!" He shut the door and walked away, not looking back.

When Gary entered, there were cheers and claps. He laughed. "Just doing my job folks. Now let's get back to the fun!" He took his place by the DJ, and soon all was back to normal.

John, Victor, and the gang were back at their table. "I can't believe those idiots. You'd think their parents would be punishing them for getting suspended and not allowing them to go out," Victor said, shaking his head.

"Their parents spoil them rotten and let them do whatever they want. It's probably why they're such bullies," Greg retorted, an arm wrapped around Molly.

"They were told if they went after Molly or anyone else they'd be banned from Homecoming," Mike added. "Looks like that's gonna happen."

"Oh it will, because I'm telling Principal Saxon first thing Monday morning," Greg vowed.

"Greg, I don't think that will happen," Mary said, walking up with Little Seb towards the group.

"What do you mean?" Greg asked, confused.

"Principal Saxon is at Gatiss General. He got hit by a car last night," Mary replied. "Dad just told me while I was on the pay phone with him."

"Oh my God!" Is he okay?" Molly exclaimed.

"He's got some cracked ribs, bruises, scratches, but he's fine. They have under sedation on morphine."

"There's more though," Little Seb spoke. He looked at Mary. "Go ahead Seb, they need to know," she encouraged.

He nodded. "Okay." He took a breath before continuing. "Principal Saxon only got hit by a car because he ran out of his house when that psycho killer broke into his house and tried to kill him."

"Jesus Christ," Bill muttered. Sarah just shuddered.

"There's more," Seb said.

"Oh God, how much more could there be?" Janine replied, wiping away a tear.

"Principal Saxon told Mary's dad he fought with the killer and took off his mask. He knows who it is, and now the police are waiting for him to wake up so he'll tell them his name."

There was stone silence. Everyone was thinking it. The killer would be caught as soon as Principal Saxon named him. Then things would go back to normal, they would it should be.

They were in for a rude awakening.

*****

Regent's Park was eerily silent, except for Marty and Art sitting down under a big pine tree, sharing a joint and drinking beer. The two had escaped to the park after being tossed out of the Rollerama.

"We should have just stayed home like we were supposed to," Art drunkenly whined. Now we can't go back to the Rollerama, and you know Molly will tell Principal Saxon what we did and we'll be banned from Homecoming."

"Screw Homecoming and screw Molly Hooper. We don't need 'em," Marty defiantly slurred.

"Yeah, you'd like to screw Molly. Or any girl you come across," Art teased.

Marty shot him a dirty look. "Go to hell Doyle."

"Already there Freeman."

The two stared each other down for a few seconds before bursting out into giggles. "Jesus, I'm so wasted," Art murmured.

"Me too. I like it." Marty took a gulp of beer. "Pass that joint over."

As Art did so, a figure dressed all in black, wearing a motorcycle helmet that covered their face, suddenly jumped in front of them, brandishing a machete. "Thugs! Degenerates!" he hissed as he swung the long, sharp blade towards the two teens.

The two boys scrambled, starting to run towards the entrance of the park where their car was, but the machete-wielding maniac caught up to them, raising the blade and slicing into Art's neck. He screamed and instantly went down. The killer began to strike him ruthlessly, blood splattering everywhere. 

Marty jumped on the killer's back with a howl, desperately trying to wrestle him to the ground, which he did. "Run, get help!" Marty screamed to Art.

The other boy, bleeding profusely, tried to get up, but fell back on the ground. "God, it hurts! I feel like my head's gonna come off!" he moaned.

"Art!" Marty cried as he continued to fight with the killer. But the combination of beer and marijuana soon weakened him, and the killer got the upper hand, punching Marty in the face. The teen landed on his back, and the killer swiftly picked up the machete and began his bloody assault on the young man.

The night air was calm, except for the sickening sounds of steel slicing through flesh, and the tortured screams of two boys who would never again live to see another Saturday night.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Goodbye Marty and Art. Your bullying days are over.
> 
> Jeremy is named after Jeremy Brett, Sherlock from the lovely Granada series.


	35. Problems

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Principal Saxon awakens but there's frustration as he can't remember the events which led to him being hospitalized, John visits a sick Sherlock, who begins to tell him about Sheridan, and as the town is sent reeling from the brutal murders of Art Doyle and Marty Freeman, the killer terrorizes another teenager.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Back with a short chapter.

_Sherrinford Strand Morning Edition_

_Sunday, September 17, 1961_

**TWO MORE FALL TO SHERRINFORD SLAYER**

**Kitty Reilly**

The psychotic killer terrorizing Sherrinford struck again last night, this time claiming two teenagers as his newest victims.

Martin Freeman, age 16, and Arthur Doyle, also age 16, were found brutally slain in Regent's Park late last night by town police. Both boys' parents called the police to report their children missing after they failed to return home after the 9pm curfew.

The tragic killings follow Friday night's attempted murder of Harold Saxon, principal of Culverton Smith High. Principal Saxon is currently recovering at Gatiss General Hospital. 

The two teenagers' deaths are estimated at around 10:00 pm and police believe a sword or machete was used in the killings. 

Regent's Park was also the scene for the brutal slaying of Carl Powers Jr. who was killed several weeks ago.

Police and Mayor Jack Harkness continue to remind residents to obey the curfew, and to report any suspicious activity to the police. 

*****

Lucy Saxon sat beside her husband, who was asleep in his hospital bed. He had been taken out of sedation yesterday afternoon, briefly woke up, smiled at his wife and brother-in-law, and promptly went back to sleep. 

Doctor Jones assured the two worried siblings this was normal due to the heavy doses of morphine he was given. His body would take time readjusting to the powerful medication. 

Lucy held her husband's hand, fighting back the urge to sleep. She hadn't gotten much rest since she returned, and wasn't allowed to return to her home because it was still being treated as a crime scene. Charlie Magnussen and his wife paid for her and her brother to stay at the Sherrinford Motel for the next few days, and they were caring for Cassidy. The orange tabby was found hiding in the basement, afraid, but Dave Morstan coaxed him out with cat food. 

Her brother Jeremy entered the room, holding two cups in each hand. "The cafeteria is closed, they're getting ready for lunch, but they had free tea and coffee set out." He handed a cup to Lucy. "I got you tea, with honey and two sugars." 

Lucy smiled at her brother. "Thanks." She took a sip. 

Jeremy sat down in a chair opposite her, next to Harold. "No change?" 

Lucy shook her head. "No, but he's resting comfortably and I'm grateful for that. It's going to be difficult to tell him those two boys were murdered last night. I know they were bullies, and Harold had to suspend them, but they didn't deserve to die so brutally." 

"It just seems so hard to believe there's someone in this town killing people, and all the ones that haven't survived have been teenagers," Jeremy said. 

Lucy pursed her lips before responding. "He's also gone after adults that interact with them. Harold, Mrs. Hudson and Angelo...clearly he's furious. He's said he's killing hypocrites. It makes no sense." 

"Psychotic killers never make sense," Jeremy pointed out.

A nurse entered the room. "Hello," she greeted warmly as she approached Harold. "I'm checking to see how he is, my shift is ending. Abigail will be his nurse until dinnertime."

"Still sleeping," Lucy answered, patting her husband's hand.

"Well, that's the best thing for him since he'll be on the mend with those broken ribs. He'll be on strong pain medication for quite a while," the nurse said. She shook her head. "It's horrible what that maniac tried to do to him, but thank God he survived. He's tough." 

"Yes he is. I'm just sad for those that didn't survive, and their loved ones," Lucy lamented. 

*****

Dave Morstan sat in his patrol car on the side of the road by Regent's Park, mentally going through the morning's events. He'd personally delivered the terrible news to Marty and Art's parents. Marty's mother Cassandra had to be sedated, his father Duke had ranted, first at his son for breaking curfew and having a bad attitude, before crumpling in the floor in a sobbing heap. Art's father Nolan was in shock, his mother Florence quietly cried. 

Dave knew the boys had reputations as bullies and were not well liked by many in town. He also knew their parents were easy on them, not big discipliners. Dave felt quite a few of the wealthier families were lenient in parenting, but that was not his business. His business was to find the lunatic cutting up Sherrinford's teenagers. And the only person who knew the identity of that lunatic was lying under medical sedation at a hospital. 

*****

John and Sherlock were sitting outside under a cluster of maple trees in Sherlock's backyard. Sherlock was feeling much better and his parents thought the fresh late summer air would do him good. 

Veronica and Sidney were surprised to see John at their door. Surprised...and a little apprehensive. Sherlock wanted to tell John about Sheridan and they were terrified of the repercussions. Would John leave, never wanting to see Sherlock again? Would he run to the police? Would they have to move again? The two were nervous to say the least as they watched the two boys head outside. 

*****

John was sitting in front of Sherlock, his back to the other boy's chest. Sherlock's long legs were wrapped around John's waist, feet in his lap, and his arms were wrapped around John's chest. 

John's eyes were closed and he was enjoying the California breeze softly ruffling the air. Then Sherlock spoke. 

"Sheridan was my twin brother." 

John stiffened, surprised. Sherlock never mentioned another sibling. And he said _was._

"He's dead isn't he," John murmured. 

"Yes." Sherlock swallowed, his mouth feeling thick, dread engulfing his body like a deadly riptide. He was about to reveal his ugly family secret, possibly risking everything he had with John. But he had to come clean. 

"Sheridan drowned in a pool at a club my parents belonged to back in England. The Diogenes Club."

"I'm sorry Sherlock. You don't have to tell me if it's going to be painful." 

"No, I need to John. There's a reason we moved here from England..."

"You don't have to say anything more Sherlock. I know how hard it is to lose a loved one, especially in a tragic accident." John reached up behind him and ruffled Sherlock's curls. 

Sherlock held John even tighter, bringing his face down to the top of John's forehead, inhaling the fresh scent of his hair. If sunshine had a smell, it would be John. And John wasn't pressing him for details about Sheridan. But the truth would have to come out, even if it meant possibly losing the best thing that happened to him in his sixteen year-old life. 

***** 

Harold began to stir, and his brother-in-law immediately turned his head to look at him. Lucy was back at the hotel, getting some much needed sleep. Jeremy said he would sit with him. 

"Hallie," Jeremy softly called. 

Harold slowly opened his eyes, a look of confusion crossing his face. He glanced around the room, frowning. "Where am I?" he croaked with a dry voice. 

"You're at the hospital. Gatiss General. You were hit by a car Friday night," Jeremy reminded him. 

Harold turned towards Jeremy's face. "Hey," he said. 

"Welcome back," Jeremy said with a grin. 

Harold frowned again. "Where's Lucy?" 

"She's resting. I'm going to pick her up later." 

Harold nodded. 

"Do you want some water?" Jeremy asked. 

"Yeah," he replied, licking his lips. 

Jeremy went into the small bathroom, grabbing a small paper cup from the dispenser on the wall, filling it with water from the sink. He put it to Harold's lips and he sucked it down in one gulp. "Thanks." 

Jeremy sat down. "Do you remember anything about Friday?" He wanted to start off slow and not overwhelm him. 

Harold squinted. "I remember being in a lot of pain and lying on the ground, and seeing Dave Morstan kneeling beside me." 

"What about before that?" 

Harold shook his head. "Everything else before that is a blur." 

Jeremy blanched. The police were counting on him to name the killer. 

"Wait," Harold began again. "I heard glass breaking. I thought it was the cat. I went into the kitchen, and then this black shape. But after that, I don't know what happened." 

"You were attacked by the Sherrinford Slayer. You fought him, and you discovered who he was. Then you ran out of the house, and got hit by a car," Jeremy finished, trying to jolt his memory. 

"Oh God," Harold whispered. 

"The police will be here to question you once they know you're awake. They'll want you to name the killer," Jeremy gently told him. 

"I'm sorry, it's all blank. Maybe it will come out in time." Then Harold widened his eyes. "What if the killer comes after me?" 

There are cops outside your door. Nobody gets in without them."

Harold breathed a sigh of relief, then looked at Jeremy." Did he go after anyone else after he tried to get me? "

His brother-in-law sighed. He couldn't keep Marty and Art's murders a secret. He nodded. "Yeah, Hallie, he did." 

 He proceeded to tell him the terrible news. 

*****

Dave Morstan sighed and pulled at his blond hair stressfully as he listened to the recording of another threatening phone call made by the killer. The creep certainly had a busy weekend.

_It was a pleasure hacking up those bullies. Now they've joined their friend Carl Powers in hell. And it won't be long before you're there with them Jeffrey. Good riddance to bad rubbish._

Jeff Hope was frightened out of his wits. He knew he wasn't a saint, but he didn't think his antics warranted a death threat, or the gory murders of two of his good friends. 

"You need to catch this asshole," Jeff cursed. "He can't get away with murdering my friends and scaring people to death on the phone. Catch him, before I do." 

Dave had promised he would. As soon as Harold Saxon awoke and told him the name. 

He would soon find out it was easier said than done. 

 

 


	36. Sincerely

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's an eventful school day as the Homecoming King and Queen candidates are picked, and Eurus reveals her family secret to John and Jim. Later, Sherlock and John share a sweet moment together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Beginning to wrap up the Eurus/Holmes family secret subplot. I don't want to spend too much time on it and have it drag on, like how it's done on TV soaps, so you'll have to suspend some belief when it comes to the fallout. John and Sherlock (as well as Jim and Eurus) are not going to go through chapters and chapters of angst, there are a ton of fanfics out there with that. ;-D

It was a mild and sunny Monday morning as John left his history class, heading for the library for his free period before lunch. He was glad they didn't cancel classes despite the brutal murders of Art Doyle and Marty Freeman, and the attempted murder of Principal Harold Saxon by the Sherrinford Slayer. The vice principal, Mr. Pegg, was back after recovering from the stomach bug and was in charge.

This afternoon, the Homecoming King and Queen candidates were going to be announced. They had been chosen at last week's Homecoming meeting. Molly cryptically told John in homeroom to expect a few surprises regarding the choices, and he had been intrigued all morning. But he had football practice after school, so he needed to get his mind and body back to thinking tackles, running the ball, and avoiding the big muscular dudes who liked to go after shorter and smaller players like himself.

There were a few students inside the library; most had chosen to spend their free period outside in the nice weather. John found a small table in the back by a window, and sat his bag on the chair next to him, taking out his history homework. 

*****

John finished his history assignment quickly, and decided to spend the half hour he had left outside. He found a spot under a tree near the football field, and retrieved a pad and pencil from his bag. He'd been asked by some members of the Homecoming committee to come up with a poster for the dance. He was a decent artist, and it didn't take long for him to start sketching a picture of one handing holding another. He wrote in neat, script lettering, "Stand By Me," above the hands, and "Culverton Smith High School Homecoming 1961" at the bottom.

"Hmm, not bad. I didn't take you for an artist," a velvety voice said from behind him.

John put down his pencil and turned towards the voice. It was Eurus Holmes. "Hello," he said nonchalantly.

"May I sit down with you?" she asked, in a sweet tone John felt was insincere. But he shrugged his shoulders. "It's a free lawn."

"Thank you." She daintily knelt down in the cool grass, leaning back and stretching out her denim-clad legs. She glanced at John with a smirk on her face. "I understand Sherlock started telling you about our brother."

John nodded. "Yes. He told me Sheridan drowned. I'm sorry."

"Is that all he said?" Eurus asked, a coy smile on her face.

John began to feel uneasy. He'd heard other stories from his friends about how creepy she was. He would have to choose his words carefully.

"He wanted to say more, but I stopped him. I didn't need to hear anything else. I know how it feels to lose a loved one to a terrible accident."

"My brother referred to Sheridan's death as an accident?" Eurus was surprised. Sherlock had ranted at her many times for what she'd done, so why would he lie to John? Then it hit her. Sherlock was afraid if he'd spill the beans about what really happened, John would reject him. She knew her brother was head over heels in love. 

John glared at her with such sharp intensity Eurus felt if he could, he'd burn a hole right through her body. "Well," she began, but John cut her off.

"It wasn't an accident? Are you trying to tell me he was murdered?"

Eurus said nothing, choosing to stare at her black Mary-Jane shoes.

"It was murder wasn't it? That's why you fled England and came all the way to America. But why? There was no need to leave..." John's voice trailed off and a wave of nausea rapidly began to crest in his stomach as began to suspect the unthinkable. "It was you, wasn't it? You killed your own brother. What did you do Eurus? Push him into the pool? Hold him down under the water?"

There was stone silence from the younger girl. John's stomach lurched, and he scrambled to get up, but a hand shot out across his knees. "Wait," Eurus commanded, her voice a little shaky.

John continued to stand, looking ahead towards the school, his stomach still heavy with nausea and dread.

"Looking back, I really didn't mean to do it. I was furious at the time," she began.

John sat down and leaned back against the tree, closing his eyes, bracing for the confession, wondering if the madness engulfing his town---and his life---would cease and desist.

Eurus began to pick at her pink angora sweater, thinking how sweet and innocent that item of clothing appeared, when she was anything but. She took a breath and continued, trying to keep her voice calm and detached.

"I loved Sheridan. More than Sherlock or Mycroft. Sheridan was the fun one, the laid back one, less cerebral. He didn't treat me like an afterthought or an annoying younger sister. When we were little, we were joined at the hip."

Her eyes narrowed. "Sheridan became really popular once he turned fifteen. He had lots of friends, and was rarely home, over this person's house or that one, and suddenly he started ignoring me. And when he did talk to me, it was nothing but lectures, telling me I needed to go out and find friends of my own. I had no interest. People were boring and they were idiots. I just wanted my brother to love me again and spend some time with me. Sherlock was off shagging anyone that gave him drugs, and Mycroft buried himself in his piano and books. My parents were always off somewhere, not paying attention to us. I felt alone and abandoned."

She turned to John for a reaction. His face had no expression, but his mouth was set in a firm, straight line.

"It doesn't excuse killing your brother. Why couldn't you talk to him?" he quietly responded.

"I tried to John. The night it happened. Sheridan had come home and started right away on me, about how I shouldn't be a shut-in, my head always in a book or putting together puzzles. I told him I was fine with it, but he said I was becoming anti-social and that I needed to get a life. I told him to leave me alone, and he asked me to go swimming at the club with him. I agreed, because it would be just the two of us, and maybe we would get close again. So we went, and we swam for a while, and in that moment, it was like we were younger all over again. He was playful, splashing water on me, I splashed back. I decided to get out because I was thirsty, and as I dried myself off, he was back to criticizing me, and told me he wanted to fix me up with the younger brother of one of his friends. I was still fourteen, I had no interest in dating anyone at the time. We started to argue. I was standing at the edge of the pool, and he had climbed out to face me, still blathering on. I turned my back to him, and he said "sod it, you're hopeless," and went on the diving board. Something began to rage inside me, like it was clawing at my insides, trying to rip its way out of my body and out up into the air. I was furious and fed up with his nagging. I followed him to the diving board, and all of a sudden, I pushed him. The board was slippery from the water that dripped from his swim trunks, and he fell forwards, banging his head on the edge of the board, and before I knew it, he was in the water, not moving. I called for him over and over again, yelling at him to stop playing around...and then I realized he wasn't joking. He was dead, and he wasn't coming back. I just...shut down and went home. Eventually Mummy and Daddy got it out of me what happened. We told the police it was an accident, that Sheridan was horsing around on the diving board, fell, hit his head, knocking himself out, and drowned." The confession came out in a rush, and Eurus took a deep breath, feeling like an extremely heavy weight was lifted from her back. 

John processed her words for a bit before speaking. He was neither shocked nor surprised. He'd seen enough of those crime films from the 1940's, and it sounded just like the plot of a grimy film noir, where the sultry vixen tells all. Except Eurus wasn't a sultry vixen, she was a young girl in an unconventional family who didn't think or act like other teenagers.

"And you moved here to escape what happened," he quietly said.

Eurus nodded. "Mummy said we needed a fresh start. She felt coming to California would instill a sense of...normalcy in us. And for the most part, it's worked. I guess I have you to thank for some of that as far as Sherlock is concerned. He doesn't even think about drugs anymore. But I know they all hate me for what I did. I won't ever gain their trust or affection. I'm a psychopath, pure and simple. I've been told it enough times."

"You're not acting like one now and you seem to have some remorse for what you did," John softly pointed out.

"There are times when I see something, or hear something, and it reminds me of Sheridan. He would have loved it here. He would have made so many friends, and he would have liked you." The corners of Eurus' mouth slightly turned up in a small grin. Sherlock would have been so jealous." She frowned again and looked down at the grass. "I can't take back what I did. Maybe that's why my family hates me. They believe I'm not remorseful enough."

John gave her a firm gaze. "Look Eurus, what happened back in England, as far as I'm concerned, I still think it was wrong to push your brother into the pool and not 'fess up. I don't know how the law works there, but you probably would have been charged with manslaughter and since you're a minor, you probably wouldn't have gone to jail. But I can see why your family panicked."

"Mummy wanted to throw me into an insane asylum," Eurus lamented.

John didn't say out loud that probably the entire family could have benefited from some type of therapy, but that wasn't his place to say it. Instead, he patted her shoulder and said,

"I want to thank you for coming clean. Sherlock started to tell me, but it's probably better it came from you."

Eurus stared at him apprehensively. "You won't say anything to anyone else?"

John shook his head. "Not my place. It's on you and your family."

Before Eurus could respond, Jim Moriarty came jogging over to them. "Hey Johnny, you trying to put the make on my girl?" he asked, trying to sound playful, but it came out a bit more bitingly.

Eurus laughed. "No way baby. His heart lies with a different Holmes."

John turned beet red. Only his mom knew about he and Sherlock, apart from Sherlock's family.

Jim's lips stretched into a teasing smile as he sat down next to Eurus and curled his arm around her waist. "Why Johnny, don't tell me you and Sherlock are playing hide the sausage."

John turned even redder. "It's none of your business Jim, but we aren't." He picked up his pad and pencil and stood. "I'll leave you two lovebirds alone. Catch ya later." He began to head towards the main campus.

Jim and Eurus watched him go, and Jim placed a sloppy kiss on his girlfriend's face. "What were you talking with him about anyway?"

Eurus turned to Jim and kissed him back. He pushed her down into the grass, massaging her dark hair with his right hand. She hummed to the touch, closing her eyes. "There's something important I have to tell you Jimmy. It's about my family and I, and why we really left England. But I want to tell you after school when we've got more time."

"Sure doll. We'll go to my house after school. My parents won't be home until later tonight."

Eurus nodded. "Good. Now snog me senseless, we've got five minutes until free period ends."

*****

John's final class of the day, woodshop, had been cancelled after the teacher, Mr. Potts, went home sick with the stomach bug. There was no substitute, so Vice Principal Pegg had the students do independent study, and they could go to the multi-purpose room, the library, or work on their class projects. John chose the library. He could get his homework done before football practice at two-thirty. 

John was the only one in the library, except for the librarians, Mrs. Monty and Mrs. Bean, who were behind their desk doing their final work of the day. He was at his favorite seat by the window, working on his assignments.  The solitude would help him get in football practice mode.

A few minutes later, the lovely sounds of "Stand By Me" could be heard over the loudspeaker. It made John sit up, turning his head towards the music. It must be a Homecoming announcement.

The music faded, and a woman began to talk. It was Mrs. Stubbs, the history teacher.

"Good afternoon students and staff! We interrupt your final class of the day with a very special announcement. We are pleased to reveal our candidates for Homecoming King and Queen."

John knew he wasn't going to be one of them, it was only reserved for seniors. His friends said that he would definitely be up for it next year. 

Mrs. Stubbs spoke up again. "Here are your four candidates for Culverton Smith High Homecoming King of 1961! Victor Trevor, Andy Garrideb, Tim Carlton, and Jim Moriarty."

John was bursting with pride and happy for Victor, and was amused that Jim got voted, but Jim did have quite a few friends, and the gals liked the greasers. Andy was one of the few black students, a friendly and likable teen who played basketball. Tim was a halfback on the Hounds football team, and he and John really didn't socialize that much. He knew with Tim being nominated, his girlfriend Sophie would probably be up for queen. She was very pretty and very popular.

"Now, here are your four candidates for Homecoming Queen. Sophie Hunter, Jennifer Wilson, Nina Garrideb, and Valerie Ventham. Congratulations candidates! We would like all of you to report to the gym promptly after classes end for the day. Thank you, and have a good afternoon."

*****

 As Victor and Tim stepped onto the field, they were met with hoots, hollers, cheers, and whistles from their teammates. "Looks like we're going to have a fight to the death for the crown!" Greg joked, slapping the two on their shoulders.

"Oh, it's just an honor to be nominated," Tim replied in a high girlish voice, batting his eyelashes.

"Congratulations," John said, his hand up to high five Victor.

Victor smiled. "I guess they have to choose the quarterback, it's like a rule."

"So quarterback, I bet you already have a date! Who's the lucky doll?" Eric Walsh, one of the fullbacks, asked.

John slightly paled. Only he and Greg knew Victor wasn't into dolls, and had a steady boyfriend. But his friend didn't miss a beat. "Nina Garrideb already asked me, and I said yes."

"Oh yeah, Nina's a fox! Her older sister's gorgeous too!" Eric said approvingly.

Andy and Nina Garrideb were twins. Their older sibling, Carmen, was in her mid twenties, married with a little boy, and also lived in Sherrinford, working as a billing clerk at Gatiss General Hospital.

Coach Stewart, who'd been standing on the sidelines, walked up, and clapped his hands once for attention. "All right team, enough chit-chat. But I think it's great Tim and Victor here are up for Culverton Smith royalty," he playfully teased. "Let's get practicing if we're going to beat the pants off the Gators!"

*****

Freshly showered but sore from practice, John was lying on his bed, reading a comic book and listening to the radio when he heard a noise at the window which made him startle a little. He rushed to his closet, retrieved his baseball bat, and carefully peeled back his curtain. Seeing Sherlock, he instantly relaxed and put the bat down on the floor. He unlatched the pane and Sherlock silkily slid through, reminding John of a big, graceful cat entering his castle.

"You goof, why didn't you knock on the front door?" John asked, shaking his head.

Sherlock pouted and huffed. "I did John, but you didn't answer."

"Sorry. I guess the radio drowned out the sound of you knocking." He smiled at Sherlock, who didn't come to school today. "Feeling better?"

"My fever broke at lunchtime, and Mummy said I could come and see you." His lips were set in a grim line. "I really need to tell you about Sheridan---" he began, but John cut him off with a wave of his hand.

"I already know. Eurus told me everything during free period."

Sherlock's eyes and mouth parted in shock. "You're kidding! Why would _she_ tell you?"

"I think she knew you wanted to tell me first."

Sherlock groaned and rubbed his forehead furiously. She always has to beat me, always!"

John wrapped his arms around him, pulling him close. Sherlock smelled like mint and tobacco. "You had a cigarette before you knocked on my door. What'd you do, smoke in my driveway?"

Sherlock, chuckled, his deep voice rumbling through John's chest. "Yes, very good John." He lifted John's chin up with two fingers, bringing their lips together. It was a sweet and tender kiss, and it sent tingles reverberating down from John's forehead to his toes.

Sherlock broke the kiss and gazed dreamily at John. "John," he breathed.

"Yeah I know, that was nice." 

Sherlock grinned and kissed him again, then pulled him down to the bed, Sherlock landing on top of John, grinning brightly at him. "You're not mad."

"Mad? Why would I be...oh wait...Eurus." John shook his head. "No. She shouldn't have pushed your brother into the pool, and none of it was your fault."

"But John, my sister is a killer, and I thought if you found out, you wouldn't want to be around me, or my family..."

John shushed him with a quick kiss. "Sher, I forgave you after you tried to attack me remember? If I didn't hold a grudge against you, why would I with your sister? I'd be a hypocrite."

Sherlock's handsome face darkened at the memory of his behavior after meeting John. He wanted to forget all about that awful incident. He'd worked hard to redeem himself, and he was never going to do anything to hurt John ever again. John was like the sun chasing all the clouds and the rain away. He was light, and he was life.

"John," he whispered, and consumed the other boy's soft lips again. When he was done, he gazed at John with awe. "You're amazing, you know that?"

"Me? What for?" John asked sincerely.

"For being so accepting...for just being you," Sherlock replied, his voice full of affection.

John smiled and lifted his head to press a gentle kiss to the tip of Sherlock's nose. "I like that."

Sherlock buried his face in the warmth of John's neck, nuzzling his tan skin. John ran a hand through Sherlock's curls, and the two lay together like that for a while, until both of their stomachs rumbled.

John laughed and sat up, taking Sherlock's hands in his. "Come on, let's get something to eat. What are you in the mood for?"

"Anything as long as it's with you."

"Wanna go to Leonard's?"

"Sure." Sherlock nodded his head, and John got off the bed, with Sherlock following right behind him, eager to have dinner with his sweet ray of sunlight.

*****

 Jim and Eurus lay tangled together in Jim's bedsheets, the smell of sex and Eurus' sweet scented perfume lingering in the air. Eurus was asleep, but Jim was awake, pondering all of what his girlfriend told him.

She'd confessed to John first, her family afraid he'd sever his relationship with Sherlock, but he wasn't going anywhere, and he didn't read Eurus the riot act. He was grateful to John for that. He couldn't fault her for her actions, even if she had lashed out in anger and it cost her brother's life. He knew she was remorseful, no matter what Mycroft told him. Everyone had their secrets, and everyone had a dark side. Most could keep it at bay, never bringing it to the surface. Some gleefully chose to revel in danger and destruction. And some, like Eurus and himself, used theirs as self-preservation.

He couldn't help but smile, remembering Eurus calling him "King Jim," gently teasing him for being nominated for Homecoming King. "I'll bet you look good in a crown," she'd said, before passionately kissing him and begging him to make love to her.

He probably would look good in a crown. At first he wondered why he was chosen among all the jocks, but then he remembered something that Sebastian Wilkes had told him. "All the girls, and some guys, love a greaser."

He had a close circle of acquaintances, most were smart kids like him focused on school, and some of them were on the Homecoming Committee, so he was glad to represent "the brains." He and Eurus would show up to the old smelly gym for the dance, dressed to the nines, showing everyone who was boss. He told Eurus she was his queen, and she giggled so prettily he couldn't help but plant kisses all over her face and body. She was no saint, but he genuinely cared for her. More people needed to care for her, as her parents and brothers weren't doing that good of a job. She had issues, but so did everyone else. And she wasn't going around slicing up people to death, like that crazy Sherrinford Slayer.

He held Eurus tighter as he thought of the killer loose in town, hoping he'd be caught soon. His parents were terrified and he was tired of having to be in early, especially on weekend nights. He liked to have his fun just like everyone else.

Jim closed his dark eyes, and soon the sounds of Eurus' peaceful breathing lulled him to sleep.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thought I'd end this on a nice note, because more mayhem is around the corner! So Eurus is not the psychopath we thought, but she still can be a manipulative lil' shit!  
> I hope you liked The Three Garridebs reference :) You'll be seeing a little more of the twins. And of course I had to make Jim a candidate for Homecoming King, because honey, you should see him in a crown!


	37. All in My Mind

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Big H prepares to reopen; Principal Saxon begins to remember a little more about the night of his attack, more fluff with Sherlock and John.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay, an update! I've been busy starting my Christmas shopping, (and binge-watching 70's crime shows online). ;-D

The sun was setting on Sherrinford, and John was bundled up on the sofa under a blanket listening to the radio, working on the Homecoming Poster. He was going to present the rough draft at the Homecoming meeting after school tomorrow.

His mom Wanda was in the kitchen making hot chocolate as it was a cool evening. Hal Auden had called earlier and the two planned another dinner date for Friday. She liked spending time with him. He was friendly and easy-going, but had a steely reserve buried deep underneath, just like her late husband Ham. 

The phone rang, jostling her from her thoughts. She went to answer it. "Hello."

"Hi Wanda, this is Martha! How are you hon?"

"Hi! It's so good to hear your voice! How are you doing? All healed up?"

John raised his head up towards his mom, who caught his glance. She smiled and mouthed "Mrs. H." John grinned and went back to his poster.

"Yes, I'm doing just fine. The doctor cleared me and Angelo to return to work, so we're both anxious to get the restaurant back up and running. I know John has football practice now, so I need to know when he'll be available after school this week. I'm sure the place is a mess after the cops were combing through everything, and I'll need all the kids' help getting it back together before we're open."

"I'll let you talk with him. Hold on." Wanda sat the phone down on the counter. "John, Mrs. H. wants to speak with you."

John got up and walked into the kitchen, grabbing the phone. "Hi Mrs. H."

"Hi John. Listen dear, I called because I need to know when you'll be available to help me get the old joint up and running. I'll have Ella and Angelo tomorrow morning and early afternoon, and Molly, Mike, and Mary are coming tomorrow after school."

"I have a Homecoming meeting right after school, but I can come after that's done. I should be there between three-thirty and four. I can come Wednesday and Friday, but Thursday is football practice."

"Oh wonderful. I'm hoping to be back for business Sunday afternoon, to catch the church crowd. Let all your friends know John!" 

John laughed. "I will Mrs. H. I'll see you tomorrow! I missed you!"

"Oh, thank you sweetie. I missed you and all the kids too. Have a good night."

John hung up the phone and looked at his mom. "Well, looks like I'm back to work."

"That's good to hear. I know you were missing that extra money," Wanda said, stirring a pot on the stove.

"You know it." John sniffed the air and smiled. "Hot chocolate smells good Mom. I can't wait to taste it."

"It shouldn't be long. Why don't you get back on the sofa and I'll bring it to you when it's ready. I want to see your poster for the dance."

"Okay Mom." John happily heeded her request. 

*****

 Sherlock stood on his bedroom balcony, enjoying a cigarette and watching the quiet beauty of the evening sunset in its brilliance of indigo blue, warm orange, and petal pink tones spread against the never ending sky. A few stars were already out, twinkling in the distance. 

The radio was playing "Sleepwalk" by Santo & Johnny, its sleepy, introspective guitars perfectly matching the mood of the sky. Sherlock took a long puff, the feeling and smell of the nicotine relaxing his mind and body.

He was still a little sore at Eurus for spilling their family secret to John, but in the end, it worked out. John wasn't angry with him, and they enjoyed a nice dinner at Leonard's, followed by an even nicer makeout session in the back of John's car. Sherlock didn't want to rush things and scare John off with pressuring him for sex, not after his violent behavior towards him when they first met. He had been on pills during those first few encounters, and since John had accepted him into his life, he'd stopped the drugs, only allowing himself a cigarette every now and then. 

Eurus had also told Jim Moriarty what happened to Sheridan, and like John, Jim wasn't mad. Sherlock was amused at the level of affection for his wayward sister, but then again, he had John, so apparently both boys were attracted to danger and unpredictability. He wondered when everybody else would find out about why they left England, and how long it would take for the rest of Sherrinford to brand them freaks and try and run them out of town. He was ready. He would just deduce the skeletons in their closets. No one was perfect.

Sherlock finished his cigarette and slid down to the ground, folding his long legs underneath him, his back against the wall. He closed his eyes, and soon images of a handsome blond with breathtaking blue eyes and a voice like sunshine filled his mind. 

*****

The morning was cool and cloudy, promising afternoon rain. John was leaving his English class, on his way to his favorite spot in the library to spend his free period doing the reading assignment his English teacher just gave him. When he entered the room, he saw Sherlock was already sitting at the table, in the chair John always sat in. The greaser grinned upon seeing John, who just smiled and shook his head.

"I'm not surprised you're here, genius. You're obviously waiting for me," John teased.

"I knew you'd be coming here on your free period, which I also happen to have. And I also know that you're going to be spending it doing boring homework," Sherlock replied with a smirk.

"Yeah, well at least getting my boring homework done means more time for play after school. And now that The Big H is opening back up, that means going back to work, which means it's better to spend my free periods doing my work and not making out with you." John crossed his arms and peered down at Sherlock intensely.

Sherlock's Cupid's Bow lips formed into a pout, and John laughed. "Sorry Sher, but I have a Homecoming meeting after school, and then I'm going right to the restaurant. But, you can come over to my house when I'm done. I should be home by six-thirty, which means you get me for two hours." John grinned, showing off his perfect white teeth, his blue eyes sparkling, and it wasn't long before Sherlock's pout quirked up into a small smile.

"We have a deal John." Sherlock stood up and pressed a quick kiss to John's cheek. "That's what I get for falling for a social butterfly."

John giggled, which made Sherlock shiver with happiness. He would never get tired of that sound. "See you tonight angel."

"Bye Sher. Looking forward to it." John watched him leave, admiring his long, lean frame, before sitting down and getting to work.

*****

John entered the multi-purpose room, looking at the clock on the wall. It was two-fifteen. Several students were already sitting at tables. Molly Hooper was at one by a window. She waved him over. John smiled at seeing her, Mike, Mary, and Sarah. "Hey guys."

Molly eyed the large sketchpad John held under his arm. "I can't wait to see the poster."

John sat down in an empty chair next to Molly, placing the pad on the table. "It's coming along great, and it'll look even better in color."

Everyone chatted amongst themselves for a few minutes, and then Mr. Turing and Mrs. Stubbs came in, signaling the beginning of the "meeting.

*****

The rain was steadily falling when John and his friends left the school. It had been a successful meeting, and everyone loved John's rough sketch of his poster. He'd promised to create some flyers to be hung around the school with the same drawing.

"See you at The Big H!" John called out to his friends. He and Molly jogged towards his car and were soon on their way to the restaurant.

"Good thing it's not open today, we wouldn't have any customers," Molly remarked as they made the short trip to the popular eatery.

"Yeah, the rain keeps the diners away," John said, making the turn into the parking lot. He stopped and got out, opening the door for Molly. The two headed inside, where Angelo was behind the counter, cleaning the kitchen. Ella was helping him.

"Hi John and Molly. Glad to see you," Angelo greeted them.

"Hi Angelo. It's good to see you up and about," John told him warmly.

"You better believe it Johnny. It was dull lying in bed. It was nice having my family dote on me, but I'm so used to being up, active, and working."

"He's been working so hard, I had to force him to take a few breaks. We need him healthy and strong for the re-opening on Sunday," Ella chimed in. 

"Yes we do, Molly added.

Angelo laughed. "You girls, always fussing over me. It's like having extra daughters."

 

"And I'm your extra wife." Martha appeared, wearing jeans and lavender button-down short-sleeved shirt, her blond hair pulled up into a ponytail. "Hey kids. Glad to see you. There's a lot of work to be done before we get back in business Sunday."

"What do you need us to do?" John asked.

"John, if you could sweep up the store room, and Molly, wipe down the picnic tables and clean the windows. When Mike and Molly get here, they can help me take inventory and figure out what we need. Dave Tennant and his wife were kind enough to offer cups, plastic ware, and napkins, since any orders I place won't be ready for Sunday," Martha replied. "I'll be going to Speedy's in a little bit to pick everything up, and Ella's going to come and help me."

"Sounds cool Mrs. H. Just hand me a broom and dustpan and I'll start right away," John happily said.

*****

The rain continued to fall as everyone left the restaurant a little before six, exhausted but in good moods. John dropped Molly off and headed for home, the shower calling his name. He noticed his mom's car wasn't in the driveway. He stepped onto the porch and saw a note taped to the door from his mom saying she got off work, but left to meet Hal on Main Street for drinks and would be back before nine, and she left him some money on the coffee table for dinner. John smiled, glad his mom was safe and having a good time, and unlocked the door.

He set his bookbag down on the couch and headed straight for the bathroom, ready to wash the long school and work day away.

*****

John only had a towel wrapped around his waist when he heard the knock at the door. He knew it was Sherlock, so he yelled for him to come in as he was putting on fresh clothes, a pair of jeans and a white T-shirt with the school's name on the front. He met his boyfriend in the living room. "Hey Sher."

Sherlock instantly rushed to John, wrapping his long arms around the shorter boy, breathing in his freshly-showered scent. "Mmm, you smell wonderful."

"I feel a lot better too. Mrs. H really put us to work, but it felt good being back." John gazed up at Sherlock and pushed away an errant curl laying on his forehead. "Mom's out with Mr. Auden, and she left me some money to get something to eat. Have you had dinner?"

Sherlock shook his head. "No, but I could eat a little something. Maybe a sandwich?"

"Sounds good. How about Speedy's? We could get BLT's and then ice cream."

Sherlock reached down and lightly kissed John. "Perfect."

In a matter of minutes the two were out the door and in John's car for their dinner date.

*****

It was nine-thirty, and while Sherrinford was settling down for curfew, Principal Harold Saxon was wide awake in his hospital bed, his mind a little more clearer now that the morphine was beginning to wear off, and the nurses were giving him codeine instead. His wife Lucy and his brother-in-law Jeremy were resting at the motel, and he was alone, furtively trying to remember what happened the night of his attack. 

He managed to remember throwing a cannister of flour at someone dressed in black, and running to the living room before fighting again with his attacker. What was still blocked in his mind was everything after that. 

He closed his eyes and tried to concentrate. Why wasn't he remembering who attacked him? Was his mind blocking it out on purpose? And if so why?

Then it hit him. It was like a lightbulb being turned on in a darkened room. He was blocking it out because he knew the person who attacked him, and it was someone he'd never think would be a crazy killer. But who? 

He had to crack this mental wall, or it would mean more people dying.

  

 


	38. I Wanna Know

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Officer Sholto takes a trip out of town to follow up on a clue found at one of the crime scenes---and a very observant bartender helps him piece together the identity of the killer, who is also discovered by someone else in Sherrinford! Meanwhile, Dave pays a visit to Principal Saxon, and John and Wanda get some much-needed good news.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's time you all knew the identity of The Sherrinford Slayer...enough said! I was planning to make it very dramatic, with him being revealed while he was trying to murder someone, but I think the way it actually turned out was just as good.

Dave walked down the hallway towards Harold Saxon's room. He had called the hospital earlier this morning and spoke with Doctor Jones, who updated him on the principal's condition. Harold was improving, weaned off his morphine and now on codeine, but still a little fuzzy in the memory department. The doctor had allowed Dave a short visit before his battery of tests that would take place after lunch.

Dave opened up the door and saw Harold, sitting up in bed, reading a magazine. His wife Lucy was sitting next to him, knitting. Both Saxons looked up and smiled happily when they saw Dave.

"Hey Dave, long time no see," Harold said, putting the magazine in his lap.

"Hello Dave," Lucy greeted. "I gather you're here about Harold's attack?"

"Yes Lucy," Dave replied, sitting down in the other seat next to her husband. "The doctor said I could question you Harold, as long as I kept it brief."

Harold nodded. "I have to admit I still can't remember a lot of what happened. I did remember last night throwing a canister of flour at the killer, and running into the living room towards the front door to escape."

Dave nodded encouragingly. "That's a good start Harold."

"I'm still at a block when it comes to the killer's identity. It's someone I know very well, and others probably know too."

"That's why we have an officer stationed outside your door. The killer is only known to you so far, and we don't want to take a chance having him try to get to you," Dave explained. 

"Whoever he is, he's hiding his psychosis very well and appears normal in town," Lucy speculated.

"Yeah, and he's got in for the teenagers. Everything he's done has centered around them. There's definite anger towards them," Dave said, rubbing his forehead. 

"But why? It doesn't make any sense," Harold replied in frustration.

"Harold, have you heard of the Blue Moon Bar?" Dave suddenly asked.

The principal shook his head. "Can't say that I have. Does it have something to do with the murders and the fires?"

"Well, a matchbook was found at the scene of the church arson with that name on it, next to a gas can. We called the number on the matchbook, and it's a swanky joint in Beverly Hills, very ritzy. I've sent Sholto there to check it out, interview the employees to see if the killer did some talking while he was there. If you can't identify the killer, maybe one of them can."

"I hope someone recognizes him, before someone else dies," Lucy said grimly.

*****

Officer James Sholto walked into the Blue Moon Bar, located in downtown Beverly Hills. He'd never been to the city that famously catered to celebrities and other wealthy people. It was like being on another planet, and it made him a bit uncomfortable. He was a true blue, coming from a family of cops. His father Levi, joked he was born with a police badge in his mouth instead of a silver spoon. 

James approached the hostess station. An attractive platinum blonde in her late 20's sporting an impressive bouffant hairdo and wearing a silver sparkly strapless flared dress stood there, eyeing the policeman up and down like she was looking at an item to place a bid on at an auction. An appreciative smile appeared on her bright red lips.

"Good afternoon officer. Are you here for business or pleasure?" she purred.

He pulled out his police badge. "Business ma'am. I'm Officer James Sholto from the Sherrinford Police Department. I'm investigating a series of murders and arsons."

At the mention of the name Sherrinford, the girl's face blanched. "Oh God, I've heard of that. It's been in the papers and on the radio here. They call him 'The Sherrinford Slayer'".

James nodded gravely. "Yes, and we have reason to believe the killer has been at this bar." He pulled the matchbook out, which was in a plastic baggie. "This was found at the site of one of the fires."

The hostess looked at it and nodded. "Yeah, that's one of our matchbooks. Gordie gives them out to the patrons at the bar."

"Gordie?" James asked.

"Gordon Ritter, but we all call him Gordie. He's one of the bartenders, works afternoons Thursday through Tuesday. He's the best one to talk to, since we get a lot of men during the weekdays. They come here during their work breaks to have a few drinks, take some of the morning stress away. A lot of them like to unload their problems on Gordie, he's a great listener. He used to be a psychologist here in the Hills, but he got burnt out listening to other people moan. So he quit and started working here. He's a very sweet man, helped me through a bad breakup with my lousy ex."

"Can you lead me to him?" James said.

"Sure." The blonde smiled and stepped out from her post, motioning for James to follow her.

She led him past the main dining area, which was dimly lit, and the small round tables had softly glowing white candles in the center, cased in frosted glass votive holders. Jazz music faintly played in the background; James recognized the tune; "Take Five" by the Dave Brubeck Quartet.

Soon he was in the bar. It was a spacious room with a long black table lined with black barstools. The ceiling was painted to look like the night sky, with a white full moon and white stars formed into constellations. Off to the sides, were more round tables, for those that wanted to dine in the bar area. 

A tall gentlemen stood behind the bar, polishing a glass. He was in his fifties, short brown hair with silver strands running through it. He had glasses, and wore a white shirt with navy blue bowtie, navy vest, and navy slacks. He glanced up and saw the hostess and James. He smiled brightly at the girl. "Hi Dee-Dee." He saw James, and his mouth opened a little. "Well, not everyday we get coppers here. Everything okay?"

Dee-Dee nodded. "Yeah. This is Officer Sholto from Sherrinford. He's here about those murders and fires up there."

Gordie smiled wanly. "I suppose you believe the culprit visited The Blue Moon?"

"Yes. He showed him the matchbook. "The killer left this at the scene of one of the fires. I'm hoping maybe you waited on someone that said he was from Sherrinford, and told you about himself."

"I'll leave you gentlemen alone. It was nice meeting you Officer Sholto." Dee-Dee grinned flirtatiously at him.

James cleared his throat. "Yes, you too ma'am."

Dee-Dee flounced off, and Gordie chuckled. "She's something else. Her name is Deirdre Parsons, but she goes by Dee-Dee. She's a good girl, working here to support herself and pay for college. She wants to be a paralegal. But, I guess you don't want to know her life story, so let's get down to business. Have a seat."

James hopped up on one of the stools, eager to hear if Gordie had any information.

"Would you like something to drink? Not booze, but a soda, glass of water? On the house."

James smiled. "Thank you, I'll take a ginger-ale."

As Gordie made his drink, he began to talk. "This place is popular with well-to-do businessman. They come here while they're traveling for work, have some drinks, eat a meal, and talk, especially once you get some alcohol in them. It's like truth serum."

James waited for him to finish. Gordie turned around and handed him his soda. "There was a man who said he was from Sherrinford. Called himself Dick, but I didn't get a last name. He always paid in cash. He said he did a lot of travelling for work."

"Dick," James repeated. He mentally ran through a list of the men he knew, but he couldn't place that name. "What did he look like?"

"He was a good-looking fellow, in his mid-forties I'd say. Short brown hair and light blue eyes, baby blue is how the ladies would describe it. He was average height, not fat, well-built, but not very muscular like you," Gordie answered.

James took a sip of his ginger-ale. "Did he talk about his work?"

"Not much. Said he was a businessman, and his work took him out of the office and out of town a lot. He said he was married and had a son, but he really didn't talk about them, only that the marriage was a good one and things were settling down with his son."

"Settling down?" James wanted to know.

"That's all he said. I didn't press him, that's not my job, so I simply assumed his son was a bit of a rebel and he was snapping out of it. But I could tell there was more about him, there was rage simmering within him."

"What do you mean?" James pressed.

"He talked about other people more instead of his family. Mentioned some by name, and he didn't have good things to say about them. Some guy named Carl Powers. He said he was a bully and was harassing his son and his son's friend. Then there were three more---Marty, Arthur, or Art, and Hope. But Hope wasn't a first name, because it wasn't a girl. It was a last name."

James processed everything that Gordie had said. Carl, Marty, and Art were three of the killer's victims. Jeff Hope had been recently called by the killer, who threatened to make him his next victim. And all of them had harassed the killer's son. But who was it? 

He started to replay Gordie's description. Short brown hair, light blue eyes. Baby blue eyes. Called himself Dick.

And then it hit him like a ton of bricks, and he nearly fell off the stool, his body feeling like it was turning into jelly. He was shocked. It was the only way to describe it. Shock. He'd talked to this person, been at his house not too long ago...

"You all right Officer?" Gordie asked, concern creeping into his face.

"Yeah---yes." James looked at him soberly. "I know who you're talking about. And if I'm right, Sherrinford is going to be reeling when we make the arrest." He downed the rest of his drink. "Thanks Gordie. You've cracked this case."

"Wow, really? Glad to be of help," Gordie replied, somewhat flabbergasted.

"You'll definitely be a witness if this goes to trial."

Gordie nodded rapidly. "I'll testify. If it helps you get that maniac off the streets. It's frightening to think I've talked to a homicidal maniac. I shouldn't be shocked, I used to be a psychologist, I've heard some stories that would curl your hair, but none of my patients were murderers."

"It's even more frightening when he's living in your town, right under your nose," James quietly countered. He hopped off the stool. "Do you have a phone? I'll need to call my boss."

"You can use the one at the end of the bar," Gordie helpfully offered, pointing it out.

"Thanks." James headed for the phone, and began to dial it. 

"Sherrinford Police Department, Chibnall speaking."

"Hey, it's Sholto. Is Dave there?"

"Hey James. No, he's still at Gatiss General talking with Mr. Saxon. You got something?"

"You bet. I think I know who the killer is."

There was a gasp from the other end. "You shitting me?"

"I don't think so. But I don't want to say it here, I'm at the Blue Moon Bar. I'll call Dave from someplace more private. Thanks Chibs."

James hung up the phone, nodded at Gordie, said goodbye to Dee-Dee, and walked outside, searching for for the nearest payphone.

******

John arrived home from another exhausting football practice. He had taken a shower at school and was dressed comfortably in shorts and a T-shirt. He was sitting on the sofa, working on flyers for Homecoming, radio tuned into KMOF. 

He had been drawing for twenty-five minutes when his mom Wanda entered the house, carrying Vons grocery bags. "Hi dear," she greeted him.

"Hey Mom. You're home early," John said, getting up to help her. He took two bags and carried them into the kitchen.

"We had to evacuate the building, one of the janitors smelled gas, so the fire crew was called into check it out. I got a few groceries, and I thought I'd make sloppy joes for dinner."

John took the items out of the bags and began to put them away. "Sounds yummy."

The two were working on getting the last remaining groceries into cupboards and the fridge when the phone rang. "I'll get it," John told his mom, reaching the phone on the kitchen wall. "Hello. Harry, hey! How's it going Sis?"

"Great John. Is Mom there?"

"Yeah, she got off work early, there was a gas smell in the building. You want to talk to her?"

"Yes."

"Okay, hold on. He looked at his mom. "It's Harry, and she wants to talk to you." He held the phone out towards her and she took it. "Hi sweetheart. How are you and Clarence?"

"We're terrific Mom, that's why I'm calling. I've got wonderful news---I'm pregnant!"

Wanda's eyes widened and her mouth dropped in surprise. "Oh Harry, that is terrific! My first grandchild!"

John's head snapped towards his mom at the mention of the last word, and he broke out into a huge grin. His sister was pregnant, and he was going to be an uncle!

"Clarence and I are over the moon. We weren't really trying, but we did want kids. I just came back from the doctor. I'm eight weeks along."

"Oh Harry honey, I'm so happy for you and Clarence. And John and I are thrilled. He's here beaming like a sun ray about being an uncle."

"If it's a boy, we're naming it after his two grandfathers. Randall Hamish Winstead."

"Oh Harry, that's a lovely name..." Wanda had to stop talking as tears formed in her eyes. "Ham would have been thrilled. I wish he was here celebrating the good news."

"Me too Mom. He would have been an amazing Pop-Pop, and I know Clarence's dad would be too." Clarence had lost his father two years ago to leukemia. "We're not sure about girls' names, but I'm partial to Fiona. Clarence likes Alice. He's agreeable to anything, as long as it's not Tiffany or Crystal or something similar. He says they're "airhead" names."

Wanda laughed, she could picture Harry rolling her eyes. "Oh I don't know, Tiffany Crystal Watson doesn't sound bad at all." 

John mouthed the word "no" at his mom, who saw her son and giggled. "John isn't a fan, so Clarence has backup."

"Yeah, well I'm the one that's gonna be hauling this kid around for the next eight months, so I have final say, and Clarence already knows it."

Wanda laughed again. "I'm sure whatever you choose will be beautiful."

"Thanks Mom. So, how's the moving going?"

"Very slowly, but this weekend John and I are going to be really starting packing things up and taking them to the new apartment..."

John decided to start dinner so his mom could talk to Harry. As he gathered the ingredients and the pans, he was extremely grateful that there was some good news for a change to distract from the killer still loose in town.

*****

Dave sat in his office, floored at what James had told him earlier today. But he couldn't make an arrest without getting evidence, and that meant requesting a search warrant. The town would be gobsmacked when there would be an arrest, but judging from what the bartender told James, and from what he knew, he could see why the killer did what he did, even if it was complete and utter madness.

Dave knew the judge was still at the courthouse. He picked up the phone at his desk and began to dial...

*****

He sat on top of his bed, shaking uncontrollably, scared beyond belief, wondering what to do. He knew he should call the police, but if he did, his life, and the life of everyone he loved would be in ruins. He also knew if he didn't tell the police what he'd seen, what he'd heard, more people would die. He couldn't have all that blood on his hands. 

He pulled his knees to his chest and hugged himself tightly, trying to sort out this horrible dilemma, wondering how he should proceed. It shouldn't be up to him. It shouldn't be up to a fifteen year-old to announce to an entire town someone they felt was a decent, upstanding person, someone who helped save him and give him a better life was a psychotic murderer.

But it had to be up to him. He wanted to have his conscience clear.  

Luckily he was alone in the house, so he could walk out the door and not be seen.

He opened up his door, quickly made his way downstairs, and dashed towards the front door, opening it.

He was on the porch, about to head for the driveway when he saw the car pull up, and his body felt like someone was throwing mounds of dirt on top of it. He stood rigid as stone, trying hard not to give himself away.

"Hey, a friendly voice called out to him as he got out of the car. "What are you doing outside? You heading somewhere?"

Henry Knight swallowed hard, desperately trying to figure out what to say to Richard Wilkes, his boyfriend's father...who he also now knew as The Sherrinford Slayer.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Poor Henry :-(
> 
> I apologize to any readers named Tiffany or Crystal, or have kids with those names. The opinions expressed by my characters are not necessarily my own. ;-)


	39. I Walk the Line

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Henry goes to the police, knowing his life will never be the same.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The shit is beginning to hit the fan!!!

Henry peered straight into Richard's icy eyes, struggling to remain calm and casual. He was still in disbelief that this unassuming man, so gentle and kind to him, who'd given him a home, taken care of him, got him everything he'd ever want or need, was a psychotic killer who'd brutally struck down so many people, and had burnt down beloved buildings. If he went to the police and told them everything he knew, he'd be out on the street again, with no one to love or take care of him. Life as he knew it would be a hellhole, like it was before he met Sebastian. He was sure his boyfriend and his mother---Richard's wife---would never forgive him for turning Richard in.

But he knew he would never forgive himself if he didn't stop this madness, stop more people from dying, stop more dwellings from burning. He steeled himself, clenched his fists, then unclenched them. He smiled at Richard and said,

"I'm going for a walk. It's a nice afternoon, and I've done all my homework."

Richard smiled back. "Okay buddy. Gloria and Sebastian should be back in a couple of hours, they're bringing back dinner."

Henry nodded. "I'll be there."

Richard patted him on the back as he walked by, and Henry's stomach lurched. He felt like dropping to the ground and screaming out his despair, but he had to be strong. It was only going to get worse.

*****

Henry sat in a chair across from the front desk, anxiously waiting for Dave Morstan. At first, the officer who was manning the desk, Chibnall, seemed not to believe him when he said he had important information regarding the Slayer case. Apparently they had been getting crackpot calls ever since the murders began, and some from Richard himself. He wondered if Chibnall had even told Dave he was here, but a few minutes later, the police chief appeared and headed for Henry. "Hi Henry. Come on and follow me."

Henry gulped and nodded. "Yes sir."

"Well, let's go into my office. Officer Sholto is there, you don't mind do you?"

"No sir," Henry replied.

The two walked down the short hallway towards Dave's office. It was fairly quiet, most of the rooms were empty. 

Henry followed Dave into his small windowless office. The walls were a drab gray color, but Dave's desk was filled with family photos. He thought to himself how there would be no more family photos for him, and no more family period.

Officer Sholto sat off to the right. He looked at Henry, with no expression on his face. Henry wondered what he was thinking. Did he already know about Richard? Did Dave know?

Henry sat down across from Dave and looked down at his lap, struggling not to cry. He raised his head and let out a long shaky breath. "Do you know? A---a---about Richard?"

Dave and Officer Sholto nodded grimly. "Henry, I'd like to tape this conversation." He opened up his top desk drawer and pulled out a mini tape recorder. "Usually we ask an adult's permission if we can tape a minor, but since you came here on your own, we'll be okay."

Henry wrapped his arms around himself and nodded back. "Yeah, do what you have to do, everyone will find out eventually."

Dave turned on the recorder. "This is Office Dave Morstan, Sherrinford Police Department. It's Thursday, September 21st, the time is 4:20 p.m. I am about to record a statement by Henry Knight regarding The Sherrinford Slayer. He has given us permission to record without an adult present." He looked at Henry. "Will you please state your name and age?"

He cleared his throat and began. "My name is Henry Clifford Knight, and I'm fifteen years old. I live with the Wilkes family."

He swallowed hard, and began to tell his tale. " I---I---I heard him this afternoon. Talking to himself. He was in the basement. I had gone down there to do my homework. It's cool and quiet. Richard has an office down there, and that's where he was at. The door was closed, but he was loud enough for me to hear. He said he was going to kill Jeff Hope tomorrow night. He found out from Sebastian Jeff was planning to break curfew and sneak off to see some girl at the beach. I was so shocked, so scared, I ran back upstairs and stayed in my bedroom. I didn't know what to do."

Dave and Officer Sholto looked at him sympathetically. "Did you ever leave your bedroom after that?"

"Yeah. I got thirsty, so I went downstairs to the kitchen, and saw him leave. I went back to the basement and to his office. I shouldn't have snooped, but I got curious. He has newspaper clippings about the murders on his desk. And in one of his desk drawers, I found a Halloween mask and a butcher knife. I ran back upstairs, got my camera, and I took pictures of the clippings, the mask, the knife. I hid the camera in a box under my bed. I didn't think to bring it with me, but I can give it to you tomorrow after school."

"Jesus," Officer Sholto cursed. Dave sadly shook his head. "Henry, I want you to be honest with me. You didn't see or hear anything up until today?"

"No. Richard acted normal when Gloria would talk about the murders...although from time to time he'd mention how awful Carl Powers and his friends were."

"What would he say?" Dave asked, his interest very piqued.

"Well, Carl, Art, Marty and Jeff used to bully me bad before I met Sebastian. They'd make fun of me for being an orphan, make fun of my hand-me-downs, anything you can think of. They knew I was queer and they would call me faggot, homo, you know, the usual names. They'd knock me down, grab my wrists, Marty even hit me a couple times on my face and head. I'd tell my aunt and uncle and they would just tell me to be tougher, hit them back. So I'd fight back, and it made them even angrier, especially Marty. After I met Sebastian, and moved in with him and his parents, Carl and his goons still went after me, but Sebastian put a stop to it, threatened to give them all black eyes if they touched me again."

Henry stopped to take a breath. "Would you like some water?" Officer Sholto asked him. Henry nodded, and he left the room.

"Do you want me to wait until he gets back?" Henry asked.

"No, everything will be on tape," Dave answered.

"Okay." Henry swallowed, and continued. "It's funny, Richard saying how much he hated those guys, when Sebastian used to...well, you know what he did before we got together." 

Dave nodded, then he smiled. "You settled him down, made him a better person."

"I'd like to think so, although every now and then his temper would flare up. Seb's very protective of me, and so is Richard. I think that's why he---he---he killed Carl, and Marty, and Art. Nobody was doing anything to stop the bullying. Their parents weren't doing a good job disciplining them, so Richard did it for them."

"What about Phillip Anderson and Sally Donovan?" Dave asked, his mouth set in a taut line. At that time, Officer Sholto returned with a Styrofoam cup of water which he handed to Henry. The boy took a small sip before answering.

"Richard wasn't racist. I think he killed them because in his warped mind, they weren't being harassed anymore. Richard would grumble from time to time about how everyone was too focused on Sebastian and myself and being gay. Gloria's dad was gay too. He killed himself years ago. Gloria really never got over that, and sometimes she'd cry about why can't people just mind their own business and stop worrying about what adults do behind closed doors. I think that made Richard crazy. Or maybe he was always crazy, and now he's showing it. For the most part, he was always laughing and smiling."

He took another drink of water and stayed silent for a few seconds before going on. "I really don't know much of anything else. And I need to get home, before he starts to worry and goes out and looks for me."

"Do you want to go back home Henry?" Dave asked, concern creeping into his face.

"I have to. Otherwise, he'll get suspicious. Sebastian will really freak out. I'll be okay, I promise." 

"Okay." Dave brought the tape recorder to his mouth. "Officer Dave Morstan, Sherrinford Police Department. This concludes our interview with Henry Knight regarding The Sherrinford Slayer murders. Thursday, September 21st, 4:37 p.m."  

Henry stood up, leaving the half-full cup of water on the table. "What's going to happen now?" he asked, his voice quivering.

"We'll have to get a warrant to search the house. Even with your pictures, a good defense lawyer will say you staged the scene to frame Richard."

Henry nodded. He watched enough _Perry Mason_ to know they would need solid evidence first. And Richard would hire the best defense lawyer money could buy.

"I still can't believe he did this Officer Morstan. It's like waking up from a nightmare, but the nightmare is still going on. This is going to tear Gloria and Seb up awful. Gloria tried to kill herself before---once she finds out Richard was the killer, I don't know if she'll survive it."

"Just be there for her Henry, and be there for Sebastian. You're a strong kid. You've been through a lot of things most teenagers wouldn't even think about," Dave replied sincerely.

"I'll be there for them. But will they be there for me after they find out I was the one who told you?" A tear escaped from Henry's eye, and before he knew it, he was sobbing like a dam bursting from too much rain.

*****

Henry got as far as the front desk, his face still tear-stained, when Officer Chibnall rushed out from behind. "Dave, James, I think Henry better stay here. We just got a call from a neighbor of the Wilkes."

Henry's face turned ghostly white, and nausea began to seep into his stomach. "Oh God---what happened?" Dave placed a steadying hand on his back.

"The neighbor reported hearing a gunshot in the home. He had his wife call police, and he went over to see what happened. He saw a young man lying in the living room, bleeding profusely."

"Seb," Henry nearly whispered, and his knees buckled out from under him. Officer Sholto caught him. "Come on, let's get you in a chair."

"No, I want to know if it was Seb that got shot," Henry croaked, crying, holding desperately onto the cop.

"It wasn't the Wilkes boy," Chibnall said softly. The neighbor recognized the kid as Jeff Hope."

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You'll find out what happened at the Wilkes home in the next chapter!


	40. My World is Caving In

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We learn the fate of Jeff Hope, and the Wilkes family begins a slow, tortuous process of trying to come to grips with Richard being The Sherrinford Slayer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heavy drama ahead!!!! But it will get better!

Police cars and an ambulance were in front of the sprawling Wilkes mansion. Paramedics were bringing out Jeff Hope, lying on a stretcher under a white sheet stained with blood.

"It's amazing the kid is still alive," one paramedic said to his partner, who nodded. "Let's see if we can keep him alive."

As the two loaded him into the back of the ambulance, Dave Morstan pulled up, with Henry Knight in tow. Henry was pale, and couldn't believe the scene playing out before his eyes.

A few neighbors were standing outside their houses, watching everything with grim looks on their faces. Dave told Henry to wait outside, as the house was a crime scene now and only police and forensics could be inside.

Dave entered the home, passing through the foyer into the huge living room. He saw the large stain of blood, still bright red, seeped into the plush carpet. A man was standing in front of it, he knew him to be the medical examiner, Fred Dryer.

"What have we got Fred?" Dave asked as he walked up to him.

"Hey Dave. Looks to be a case of attempted murder. The neighbor who called this in said he heard a gunshot and ran over here. The door was closed but unlocked. He went into the living room and saw Hope lying on the floor, conscious, face down. He managed to tell him that Richard Wilkes shot him in the back after they argued."

"Hmm, so Hope came here, possibly to confront Richard, and somehow he got a bullet in the back," Dave surmised.

"Hope had his back turned from Wilkes, so I'm assuming Wilkes asked him to leave, or he was leaving of his own accord when he got shot. I want to know why the Hope kid was here," Fred replied.

Dave sighed. "It's gonna get out anyway, so I might as well tell you. We have solid evidence to believe Richard Wilkes is The Sherrinford Slayer, and he was planning on making Hope his next target."

Fred's eyes widened so much they could have popped out of his face. "Holy shit," he murmured, shaking his head in disbelief.

"Richard had called Hope and threatened his life. Maybe he figured out it was him and decided to come here and have it out."

"Richard Wilkes...Christ, this is crazy...he's such a prominent member of the town," Fred said. "Why him?"

"I can't discuss it here Fred, but suffice to say, we've learned a lot today about him, and apparently he's been wearing a mask of normalcy for a long time. Hopefully Jeff Hope will survive, and be able to tell us more."

Fred nodded. "Well, I better get back to work. Richard Wilkes...Jesus." He shook his head again and resumed his duties.

Dave walked back outside to tend to Henry, who was standing next to one of his neighbors, an older woman. She had an arm wrapped around Henry, talking to him, trying to comfort him.

"How are you doing Henry?" Dave asked.

"As well as can be expected I guess. I don't know how I'm going to tell Seb and Gloria about all of this."

"Leave that to me son," Dave replied reassuringly.

Henry felt a little relieved at hearing those words. "Thanks Officer Morstan."

"And it looks like I'll be telling them sooner than later---Gloria and Seb are pulling up now."

*****

Lucy Saxon entered her husband's hospital room. Harold was drinking a cup of water and listening to a portable radio tuned into a classical music station. His nurse, Abigail, had brought it in for relaxation purposes. The news she was about to deliver was anything but relaxed.

"Hi honey," Harold greeted her affectionately. Did you have a nice stroll?"

Lucy sighed and sat down on the edge of the bed. Harold noticed the look on her face, and frowned. "Something else bad happened, didn't it."

She nodded. "Jeff Hope was just brought in. He was shot in the back."

"What?" Harold exclaimed.

Lucy switched off the radio and sat down next to her husband, taking his hand and squeezing it, trying to comfort him. "Harold, what I'm about to say is going to be difficult, because it also involves you...and what's been going on with the murders."

Harold took Lucy's other hand, as if to steady himself for the conversation about to come. "It was the Slayer, wasn't it."

"Yes." Lucy looked away for a moment before facing her husband again. "There's no easy to say it, so I just will. Jeff said that Richard Wilkes shot him before he passed out, and the police strongly believe Richard is the Sherrinford Slayer."

Harold felt like all the air had been released out of him, and his stomach sank like a lead balloon. "Dear God in heaven. So it was Richard that broke into our home and attacked me. That's why I blocked it out---when I fought with him, I must have gotten his disguise off, I knew who he was, and deep down I didn't want to believe it was really Richard that tried to kill me."

"What I don't understand, is how Jeff ended up at the Wilkes home and now he's fighting for his life," Lucy said sadly.

"Everything will come out in time sweetheart." Harold laid back and folded his hands in his lap. "I just don't understand. Why Richard? We've been friends for years. He's always been such a friendly, kind guy. I know he's had a lot to deal with at home. Gloria can be neurotic and Sebastian has that temper of his---but it's all so senseless."

"Maybe his home life got to be too much and he snapped," Lucy quietly mused.

"Why go after Jeff? Why kill his friends, and burn down the church and the old mansion?" Harold wanted to know.

Lucy patted his leg that was covered up by the blanket. "Like you said, everything will come out in time. Let's be glad that we know who the killer is, and let's hope Jeff pulls through."

*****

The Sherrinford Community Center, now a makeshift church, was welcome refuge for Gloria, Sebastian, and Henry. The former two were in total shock and dismay after hearing from both Dave Morstan and Henry that Richard, their beloved husband and father respectively, was more than likely The Sherrinford Slayer. 

Henry was sitting on the floor, knees pulled tightly to his chest, his head down between his thighs, sobbing, refusing comfort from Gloria and his boyfriend. He felt guilty for ratting Richard out, and destroying their happy, perfect household. Both Gloria and Sebastian had no ill-will towards him, and despite repeated attempts to get him to sit with them, he wouldn't budge from his position on the floor.

"Give him time," Dave had told the two. "He did the right thing by coming to the police, but in his mind, he's torn a family apart, and he's afraid you'll throw him out on the street."

"We'd never do that. Not after all the joy he's brought to me, and especially to Sebastian. We need him more than ever now, and he needs us. He's just fifteen, so young," Gloria replied, fighting back tears. She didn't think she could cry anymore. She was completely dry, exhausted---and furious. Furious at Richard for betraying their marriage, betraying the town, and causing so much heartbreak to so many families.

Sebastian was completely numb. He and his father had a great relationship. Richard had supported him, had stood by his side during those difficult times when he'd acted like a reckless pervert, stood up for him when everyone else in town wanted his head. Now he wondered if his behavior caused his father to crack. How else could he try and rationalize what his father had done? And now he was on the run after shooting Jeff Hope.

The worst part, even worse than the killings, and the arson, was that Henry had to be the one to find out. He wanted desperately to scoop him up, hold him tight and tell him he would always love him, and he would never turn against him, but Henry was so afraid of being rejected by the only people who loved and cared for him, he retreated into himself and put up a wall, not allowing Sebastian or Gloria to get near him. 

Sebastian started to grow angry towards his father. He hoped the police would catch him, and he'd pay for his actions. He didn't care if his family were drugged through the mud. He wouldn't be here to witness the stares, listen to the judgments. He and his mother were already in the process of leaving Sherrinford and moving to Berkeley, and Henry would be going with them. Richard had been behind the move. He would stay here and visit them on weekends.  He agreed to it, while at the same time murdering people. He probably wanted them gone so he could continue his killing spree and they'd be none the wiser.

Sebastian couldn't take it anymore. He went to Henry, sliding down beside him. "Henry, babe please, don't shut me out. I don't hate you. I never could. I love you so much. Please, let me hold you. As soon as this settles, we're out of this town. You, and Mom, and I will be in Berkeley, things will be better, we'll make new friends there. It'll be okay babe, I promise."

Henry raised his head to look at his boyfriend. He saw Sebastian's pained gaze. "Oh Sebby, I'm so sorry," he whispered. 

Sebastian pulled him so he was on his lap, and he wrapped his arms around him, planting soft kisses to his hair. "Damn him. Damn him for what he's done," Sebastian hissed.

Gloria saw her two boys, and she too joined them, comforting them as much as she could, while trying to resonate yet another man she loved and treasured was not who she thought he was. 

*****

"Dave, call for you, from Gatiss General, line one," Officer Sholto said as he stood in the doorway of Dave's office at the police station.

"Thanks." Dave picked up the phone. "Officer Morstan."

"Hello Officer, this is Doctor Wakefield."

"Hello Doctor. Any news on the Hope boy."

"Yes, that's why I'm calling. I really don't know any good way to say this---"

"He didn't make it, did he," Dave softly cut in.

"I'm sorry. We weren't able to do surgery. The bullet was lodged too close to his spine. Sadly, it wasn't the gunshot that killed him. He went into cardiac arrest and we weren't able to revive him."

Dave sighed and shook his head. Another young life, cut tragically short. "Thank you Doctor Wakefield. Are his parents there?"

"Yes, and they already know. The worst part of my job is when I have to tell someone their loved one passed away."

"Believe me I can relate. Well, thank you Doctor."

"I hope you catch this monster Officer," Doctor Wakefield said.

"I'll make sure of that. Goodbye."

Dave hung up the phone. He picked up a picture that sat on his desk of himself, his wife, and Mary. He hugged it to his chest, feeling sorrow for Jeff Hope's parents, and vowing to get Richard Wilkes before he tore apart another family.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fred Dryer is named for the actor, who played cop Rick Hunter in the 1980's TV series Hunter. One of the best crime shows of all time.


	41. Running Scared

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a long chapter that wraps up the major parts of The Sherrinford Slayer story. The ramifications, however, will change some lives forever and continue into the following chapters.

Outside the Sherrinford Police Department, Billy Wiggins and Kitty Reilly were standing and waiting anxiously for Officer Dave Morstan and Officer James Sholto to come out and begin a news conference regarding the Sherrinford Slayer. The two were talking with each other when a KABC news van pulled up behind the KMOF van. A middle-aged man hopped out in a navy blue suit, followed by a younger man in a brown leather jacket and khakis, holding a camera. The two were setting up to tape a segment.

"Wow, even LA's come here to cover this. Dave and James must have some really big news for us," Billy remarked.

"A major break in the case maybe?" Kitty wondered aloud.

Five minutes after the KABC reporter and cameraman wrapped up their taping, they approached the front of the station, exchanging pleasantries with Billy and Kitty, the door to the building opened and the two cops appeared, walking to the waiting reporters. Billy turned on his portable tape machine, adjusted his microphone, ready to capture everything. Kitty had her pen and paper, and the other reporter and cameraman were also waiting.

"Good evening ladies and gentlemen. My name is Officer Dave Morstan. Beside me is Officer James Sholto. We're from the Sherrinford Police Department, and we have an announcement regarding the Sherrinford Slayer."

There was a short pause before Dave continued. "At approximately 4:30 this afternoon, a call came into the police station reporting a gunshot being fired inside the home of Richard and Gloria Wilkes. The caller went to the home, and discovered a young man lying on the living room floor with a gunshot wound to the back. The young man told the caller he had been shot, and an ambulance was promptly dispatched to the scene. The young man was rushed to Gatiss General, but unfortunately, passed away about two hours later from cardiac arrest. The deceased is sixteen year-old Jeffrey Ralph Hope, a student at Culverton Smith High School."

Dave paused again, steeling himself for his next words. Although he had known the identity of the suspected killer for some time, he knew it was going to send a major shockwave through the town. 

"Mr. Hope had identified his assailant as Richard Wesley Wilkes, age 45. Mr. Wilkes is also suspected of being The Sherrinford Slayer. He is currently on the run. We don't know if he is still in Sherrinford, but we ask everyone to stay inside where you are, and keep your doors and windows locked. We have all available officers searching for him."

"Richard Wesley Wilkes is five foot eight, with short graying brown hair, light blue eyes, and weighs roughly one hundred sixty-two pounds. There are no tattoos or identifying marks on his body. At the time of the shooting, he was wearing a black short-sleeved polo shirt, gray slacks, and black loafers. He may be driving a 1958 blue Cadillac Seville. If you see him, immediately call police. Do not attempt to approach him, he may be armed with a gun, or other weapons. At this time, I will allow questions."

Kitty raised her hand. "Officer Morstan, what events led you to suspect Mr. Wilkes of being The Sherrinford Slayer?"

"I'll let Officer Sholto answer." Dave stepped back, and James stepped forward. He cleared his throat before speaking.

"Not far from the scene of the church arson, one of our officers found a gas can and a matchbook with an advertisement for The Blue Moon Bar. We were able to locate the bar, which is in Beverly Hills. I went there to see if any of the employees had served someone from Sherrinford, and we did find an employee who identified Mr. Wilkes as a patron. The employee, who we are not naming at this time for safety reasons, told me Mr. Wilkes had made unsatisfactory statements regarding some of the murder victims.  We also have an anonymous source that came forward and overheard Mr. Wilkes making threats to kill Jeff Hope."

"Was Harold Saxon able to identify him as the one who attacked him?" Billy asked.

"Yes. He confirmed to Officer Morstan earlier today it was Wilkes that broke into his house and tried to kill him last Friday evening."

"Do you suspect Mr. Wilkes' wife, son, and his son's friend that live with them are involved in these murders and fires?" Kitty spoke.

"No. We do not believe they were involved, and we do not believe they knew what he was doing. When police spoke to them earlier this evening, they were shocked, surprised, and angry at his actions." James did not reveal it was Henry Knight that spilled the beans to police. They did not want Richard finding out and going after him in retaliation. 

"Where are his wife, son, and the friend at now?" the KABC reporter wanted to know.

"We cannot disclose their whereabouts due to safety reasons, but they are in a safe and secure location," James replied.

 "Do you suspect Wilkes of being the arsonist?" Kitty asked.

"Yes, we believe he alone set the fires," James responded.

"Do you also believe he called in the bomb threat to Culverton Smith High and placed that briefcase at the school?" Billy inquired.

"Yes, we believe he did that as well. The murders, the fires, all of the threatening phone calls---we suspect it was him, and there were no accomplices."

Dave stepped forward. "That is all the information we have for you at this time. If there are any new developments, if he is captured, we will announce another press conference to update you. Again, we implore everyone to stay inside, or if you are out on the street, to get home as quickly as possible or find a safe place, lock your doors windows, and hunker down until the suspect is caught. I also want to announce that all of the area schools are closed tomorrow. That includes Culverton Smith High, Sherrinford Elementary, and Sherrinford Middle School, Doyle Prep, and Cumberbatch Academy. Again, there is no public or private school tomorrow. Parents, please keep your children indoors tomorrow, and for parents who are not able to be home tomorrow, the Sherrinford Community Center will be open, and several teachers have volunteered to provide activities for children who are not able to stay at home. The center will open at 9:00 am tomorrow. We have police coming from Gatiss to provide security, and I'd like to thank Al Rickman, the chief of the Gatiss Police Department, for coming to our aid. This concludes the press conference. Thank you."

Dave and James turned to go back inside the police station. Kitty was furiously finishing up her notes so she could compose them for her article, and Billy and the KABC crew were finishing up their live reports, all wondering when the nightmare would finally end.

*****

John sat inside his car in The Big H parking lot, steaming mad. Of course his ride would have to conk out the night a mad killer was on the loose. He was a sitting duck. Luckily Mrs. Hudson and Angelo were with him in the car too, waiting until Hal Auden arrived to pick him up and take him home.

John's anger overshadowed his fear and shock at learning Richard Wilkes was The Sherrinford Slayer. He'd listened to the KMOF live broadcast while working his shift. Mrs. Hudson, upon hearing the news, immediately closed the restaurant and ordered everyone home. John had been the last to get into his car, and the battery died. 

He'd called his mom, who at first agreed to get him, but Hal was at their home visiting Wanda, and he said he would get him. He would bring Wanda's gun too. John felt safer knowing that fact. If they were to run into Wilkes, at least they would have some means of self-defense, but he prayed that wouldn't be the case.

Mrs. Hudson had her rifle, even though it wasn't loaded, and Angelo carried a butcher knife. They'd already tangled with Wilkes, and survived. Mrs. H. thought he wouldn't dare show his face again, but Wilkes was crazy, and crazy people were never predictable.

Mrs. H. had changed the radio station to jazz. She was tired of hearing about the murders, especially sitting in a parking lot at night. John didn't care what was playing. He just wanted to get home. 

Hal Auden's car pulled up beside John, who breathed a sigh of relief at seeing his mom's friend. "Thank God!" 

He, Mrs. H. and Angelo got out of the dead vehicle. John locked all the doors and shoved his keys in his jeans pocket.

"John, you and Mr. Auden go straight home, you hear?" Mrs. H. said sternly.

"I will. Thanks for staying with me. You go straight home too," John replied.

"Don't worry, we will. See you later dear."

John waved them off and got into the passenger side of Hal's car. "Thanks Mr. Auden. My car has the worst timing."

"We'll call a tow tomorrow morning. Let's just get home. Your mom is sitting on the couch clutching a pair of fabric scissors, terrified out of her mind." Hal shook his head. "I still can't believe Richard Wilkes is the one who did all of those horrible things."

"When I first heard the news, I was startled to say the least. I mean, his son is a jerk---well used to be---but he seemed so with it," John said.

Hal started his car up and pulled out of the parking lot. "He had everything too. Money, a nice house, a good job...what went wrong?" Hal mused.

"Money can't buy you everything. I should know that better than anyone," John answered.

It didn't take long to reach John's house. The porch lights were on, as were just about everyone's in the small neighborhood. John felt a little safer seeing everything bathed in a soft white glow. 

He got out of the car and rushed towards the house, Hal following closely behind. He knocked on the door. A few seconds later, he heard his mom's voice. "Who is it?" 

"It's me Mom. John, and Mr. Auden."

Wanda quickly unlocked the door. "Johnny, thank God. I was scared out of my wits." She pulled him inside and into a big bear hug, then released him. "

Hal shut the door and locked it. He pulled the gun out of his pocket and carefully set it down on the coffee table. "Everything this way was pretty quiet."

"Do you think he's still even in Sherrinford?" I don't even want to think about him hiding in someone's backyard, waiting to strike." Wanda shuddered at the thought.

"You can't predict what a psychopath will do. Come on, let's relax in the living room and listen to some music. I'll stay here tonight, I'll sleep on the couch and keep the gun with me," Hal said.

"Oh Hal, you'd do that? I know I'd feel much safer with not one, but two strong men in the house," Wanda replied, winking at John.

John couldn't help but smile at his mom's description of him as a strong man. And he was glad Hal was here to help protect his mom. 

"Anything for you and John."

"I'm going to make some hot chocolate if anybody wants some," John said, going into the kitchen.

"That sounds great." Wanda plopped down into an easy chair, kicking off her shoes.

Hal switched the radio to the jazz one John was listening to earlier. "I think it's the only one not talking about the murders."

It took a while, but soon everyone was a bit more relaxed, sipping on the hot chocolate John made. Then thunder boomed in the distance.

*****

John awoke with a feeling of dread in the pit of his stomach. He couldn't explain it, but for some reason, he felt a presence in the house that wasn't his mom or Hal. 

He turned on his beside lamp and looked at the clock radio, which read 1:40 a.m. He quietly got out of bed, put on his sneakers, grabbed his baseball bat that was propped up against the wall, and crept into the dark hallway. His mom was asleep in her bedroom. He continued into the dark living room, and heard snoring. He fought back a chuckle as he passed Hal, who was sleeping soundly on the sofa.

As John headed to the front door, a voice inside his head told him to call the police and not try and play hero. _Think of your mom. Hal. Yourself._

If he did call the police, and nobody was prowling around, he'd feel stupid and they would probably be miffed at coming out for nothing. But what if he didn't, and if Wilkes was casing the house, he'd try to break in. He did it before, and Principal Saxon ended up in the hospital.

John decided to let reason take over. He headed for the kitchen, turning on the light. Hal would probably wake up, but maybe it was for the best. He had the gun.

John dialed the police. "Hello, Sherrinford Police Department, a male voice answered.

"Hello, I think I have a prowler outside my house. Can someone come and check it out?"

"What is your name and address?"

"John Watson, 147 Bay Boulevard."

As soon as he gave his information, he heard the sound of glass breaking, and it came from the direction of his bedroom. He gasped. "Oh God---someone's trying to get in! I hear glass breaking!"

"Okay Mr. Watson, I'm sending an officer right now. Is anyone else there with you?"

"My mom, and a friend."

"Can you get them out of the house?"

Hal awoke and was on his feet, gun in hand, looking at John. 

"I don't think I can get to my mom, she's in her bedroom at the back, and that's where the sound came from." John was quickly growing fearful.

"There's an officer patrolling your neighborhood, he'll be there in a few minutes. Stay calm sir."

John took a deep breath, hand that was holding the bat clenched. "I will. Thank you."

He hung up the phone. "Hal, he's here!"

Hal cocked the gun. "Stay there. I'm going to get Wanda out. If it's Wilkes, I'm shooting to kill."

John nodded and watched him stealthily creep towards the hallway. John stood still, like a petrified tree, clutching the bat and saying silent prayers that he and Hal and his mom would be safe. 

Suddenly there was a blood-curdling scream. It was Wanda. John ran for the hallway, bat raised, breathing heavy. 

A gunshot stopped John in his tracks. "Mom! Hal!" he cried.

Richard Wilkes appeared in the archway between the living room and the hallway, his gun pointed at John, an evil sneer on his face. "Finally. I finally get to cross you off my list. I've saved the best for last, you little brat!" he spat.

John froze in his spot. It was like time standing still. He looked into Wilkes' icy blue eyes, and they were filled with sheer fury. He decided to say nothing, knowing he would provoke the madman, hoping keeping quiet would ensure he lived.

"I really should thank you John. If you didn't reject my son, he wouldn't have met Henry. But you're just like everyone else in this town, a hypocrite. I've seen you with that Holmes boy. What does he have that Sebastian doesn't?"

If John was going to answer, he would never get the chance, for his mom suddenly appeared and jumped on Wilkes' back, pounding him everywhere she could with her fists. "You maniac! How dare you come in here and try to hurt my family! I'll kill you myself goddammit!"

Wilkes was desperately trying to pry the angry mother off of him, and he dropped his gun. John dropped his bat and dove for it, picking it up and pointing it at Wilkes. "It's okay Mom, it's okay! It's over!"

By this time, Wilkes was on the floor, hands up in a defensive pose, trying to shield himself from Wanda's rage. Hal had dragged himself into the living room, gun in his right hand and the left hand firmly pressed against his side, which was bleeding.

"Hal, you've been shot!" John gasped.

"It's okay, just a flesh wound." He looked down at Wilkes, who was curled up into a fetal position on the floor. "Nothing but a waste." He turned to Wanda, who was still breathing hard from her physical confrontation with the murderer and leaned into her. "It's okay Wanda. It's done."

Sirens could be heard blaring, and the windows were filled with blue and red flashing lights. "Thank God," John said, still training the gun on Wilkes.

Loud knocks on the door reverberated through the house. "Police!" a male voice shouted.

Wanda raced to the door and quickly unlocked it.  "Thank God you're here. Wilkes broke into the house. He shot Hal and went after my son, but I was able to corral him to the floor." She motioned for the officers, who rushed in, pointing their own guns at Wilkes.

John, Wanda, and Hal watched as one of the officers forcefully brought Wilkes to a standing position. There was an eerie, blank look on his handsome face, and it caused John to shudder. 

"Come on Wilkes, we're taking you to the station. Your reign of terror is over," the cop holding him said.

"Is it officer? Is it really over?" Wilkes replied cryptically, his face morphing into a twisted, sinister smile.

Then all hell broke loose. Wilkes somehow got out of the officer's hold, grabbed his gun, and before anyone could stop him, he raised it, aimed it at John---and fired.

*****

The relatively calm early morning at Gatiss General quickly turned into a flurry of doctors and nurses rushing and racing around the emergency room as word spread of the carnage that had transpired over an hour ago at the Watson home. 

Wilkes had shot John in the left shoulder and hit both officers on the scene in the leg and hand respectively, but before he could aim at Wanda and Hal, Officer Sholto and Officer Dave Morstan had arrived on the scene and Sholto brought Wilkes down with one bullet to the abdomen. He had screamed in pain before collapsing.

Two ambulances transported John and Wilkes to the hospital. A third took the two injured officers away for treatment. John was conscious and in a lot of pain. Wilkes was unconscious, but alive. Both men were rushed to surgery. Hal had been treated by a paramedic in front of the house and refused to be looked at by a doctor, but said he would see one if the wound became infected.

Wanda was sitting in a waiting room on the second floor, where John was currently being operated on. Hal was beside her, a comforting arm wrapped around her. She had called Harry and Clarence, and they were on the road to the hospital. She also called Mrs. Hudson, and all his friends' parents to let them know what had happened. 

She also tried to call Sherlock, but no one at the Holmes house had answered. She figured they were all asleep, and would try again later.

Wanda was horrified that John got shot and needed surgery, but she was extremely relieved that he would be okay. He would need physical therapy, and more than likely he wouldn't be able to play football this year. She knew he would be devastated about that. John loved being out on the field, dodging between the bigger players, running the ball in for touchdowns. Her son was a thrill seeker, and now he'd have to watch on the sidelines.

 _Damn Wilkes to hell_ , she bitterly thought. _I hope he dies._

*****

Sherlock was now awake, sitting at the kitchen table, sipping a glass of water. He and his family had watched the police press conference on TV, and his parents had expressed shock at learning Richard Wilkes was the killer. Sidney and Veronica had crossed paths with him and his wife Gloria, and he was always pleasant and good-natured. It was difficult to digest he was a homicidal maniac.

Eurus thankfully, had been quiet the rest of the evening, and retired to her room. She was no doubt reflecting on her actions where Sheridan was concerned. Mycroft had expressed concern for his friend Henry, but glad he was safe with his mom and boyfriend. 

Sherlock had immediately called John's house after hearing the news, but Wanda told him he was stuck at The Big H with a dead car and Hal Auden was bringing him home, and to call later. But he was actually tired and took a couple of sleeping pills (his parents allowed him to) and the combination of the medicine and a few cigarettes he'd smoked on his balcony willed him into a deep slumber, until the sirens woke him up. 

Sherlock turned on the small radio that sat on one of the kitchen counters. He sat down, closed his eyes, and began to listen.

"Good morning, this is Billy Wiggins. I'm live on scene at Gatiss General Hospital. Almost two hours ago, Richard Wilkes, the prime suspect in the Sherrinford slayings and fires, was rushed here after being shot in the abdomen by Officer James Sholto of the Sherrinford Police Department. Wilkes had broken into the home of Sherrinford resident Wanda Watson, where he shot and wounded Hal Auden, a friend of Mrs. Watson and owner of Auden's Gun Shop on Main Street. Mr. Auden was staying at the home looking after Wanda and her sixteen year-old son John."

Sherlock's eyes snapped open and a bout of nausea began to form in his stomach. _Oh God John_ , he thought. _Please let John be okay._

"Wilkes then attempted to shoot John Watson, but was interrupted by his mother, who was able to thwart his attempts to harm the young man. Police soon arrived to the residence, but as two officers were in the process of taking Wilkes into custody, he was able to grab one of the officer's guns, and shoot John Watson in the left shoulder..."

Sherlock tore out of the kitchen as fast as his feet would allow him.

*****

By now, there was a crowd that had formed a vigil for John at the hospital, so nurses moved everyone into a larger waiting room that had couches. A television was mounted on the wall, but it wasn't on.

Wanda, Hal, Mrs. Hudson, Molly and her parents, Greg, Mike, and Ella were sitting, waiting with baited breath on news about John's surgery. Harry and Clarence had called the hospital from a payphone to let them know they would be there in another hour or so. Harry had gotten carsick on the way, a side effect of her newly confirmed pregnancy.

A few minutes later, Doctor Wakefield stepped into the room. Everyone turned their heads towards the man. Wanda jumped up from her seat, with Hal behind her, gently massaging her shoulders. "Doctor? Is my boy okay?" she asked anxiously.

"Yes Mrs. Watson. John came through the surgery with flying colors. We were able to remove the bullet."

Wanda breathed an audible sigh of relief.  "Thank the Lord. When can I see him?"

"He's in recovery right now, being weaned off the anesthesia. You'll be able to see him in about half an hour," Doctor Wakefield replied.

"Thank you Doctor," Wanda said, tears of joy forming in her eyes.

 Doctor Wakefield smiled and nodded his head, leaving the room. Wanda started to cry, grinning through the tears. "Thank God he's going to be okay."

Hal took her into his arms, holding her close. "I know. It could have been a lot worse."

*****

Officer Dave Morstan and Officer Dave Sholto were in a waiting room on the other side of the second floor, waiting for news on Wilkes. Gloria, Sebastian, and Henry had been brought to the hospital by Officer Chibnall, and they were sitting with Principal Harold Saxon in his room, all of them supporting each other. Harold had been informed of the situation, and he was glad that Wilkes had been captured and shot. He was no longer in danger. 

The two police officers shot by Wilkes had been treated and released. They had only been grazed by the bullets. 

"I gather there's going to be an investigation as to why Wilkes wasn't immediately handcuffed at the scene," James murmured.

"I don't think Sheeran or Styles will be reprimanded, but there will definitely be some training. I mean, our police department is small and not used to dealing with crimes of this nature. I feel awful for John and his family," Dave replied.

"At least John's going to make it. And I didn't want to kill Wilkes. He needs to survive and pay for what he did," James said ruefully.

"I know, and I hate to say this, but if Wilkes doesn't make it, that means there's no money spent on a trial and jailing him. Nobody would have to go through the pain of hearing all over again what happened to their loved ones."

Dave patted James on the back. "You did good Sholt. I'm definitely going to the chief and personally request a commendation and promotion for you."

James allowed himself a tiny grin. "Thanks Dave. But I'm no hero. All I did was my job."

Dave grinned back. "That's all we can do."

*****

The nurse had announced that John was ready for visitors, but family only. Hal told Wanda he would let Harry and Clarence know she was with him as soon as they got in.

As Wanda prepared to walk back to recovery, Sherlock barreled through the doors of the waiting room. Everyone turned to look at the tall, lean boy, very startled to say the least. He was wearing light blue pajama bottoms, a thin white cotton T-shirt, and sneakers. His dark curls were plastered to his forehead, and his handsome face was glistening with sweat. His eyes were wide, filled with anxiousness and nervousness. He was breathing heavily. 

 He looked pleadingly at Wanda. "John...I heard on the radio that he was shot...I rushed to get here...is he okay?" 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To my fellow "Yanks"...I wish you a happy Thanksgiving holiday!


	42. Going on Hiatus

With the holidays coming up, I'm going to take a short hiatus and resume the story after Christmas. Happy Holidays!


	43. A note from the author

Unfortunately at this time I'm no longer continuing this story. I have a general idea of how I want everything to wrap up, but just can't pull it together right now. For everyone that read, made kudos, and commented, thank you.

I'm still writing my other current story, The Captain and the Woman, and I will do little one-offs from time to time. In time, I hope to return to Sleepwalk and finish it because I'm proud of what I've written so far, but for now, it's going to take a rest.

**Author's Note:**

> John's car:  
> 
> 
> Vons and Woolworth's were real stores. There was a Woolworth's at my local mall. It had a restaurant and my grandmother loved going there for french fries and gravy. 
> 
> The Big H is based on a real life drive in/restaurant called The Big M that was about twenty minutes away from me. It closed in the late 90's after the big movie theater chains opened up and took away all the business.


End file.
